Cutlass
by TKegl
Summary: Isabella Swan is certain notorious pirate, Edward Cullen, murdered her father and stole his prized cutlass. Out for revenge, she sneaks onto his ship, but Captain Cullen claims she has the wrong man. A tale of the search for truth…and treasure of course.
1. Chapter 1: The Boy, Smith

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **This story began as a contribution to Fandom for Sexual Assault Awareness. Thanks to the lovely ladies who put together this fundraising effort, and to all of you who contributed. It's so awesome to be a part of such a positive aspect of the fandom. The first two chapters are what originally appeared in the compilation. After that, I plan to update weekly on Tuesdays, U.S. time. *fingers crossed*

Thanks to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her hard work with this, to the lovely **KitsuShel** for pre-reading…and to **katethegreat13 **and **susanaA81, **who've been asking for Pirateward to have his own story forever...

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><p><em><strong>Often, when the sunlight wanes, I find myself perusing the vastness of the sea about me, and ponder the warnings of those who speak of the wildness of this place. Some fear the natives of the islands and their strange ways. Others, the dangerous creatures who dwell in the depths beneath me. I, however, have come to know that the true danger of these waters lies not with the savages, nor with the beasties below. No, the true threat is the man without honor, without conscience.<strong>_

_**He calls himself the pirate.**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 6 October, 1666**_

**Chapter 1: The Boy, Smith**

_May, 1748_

Only a handful of fluffy white clouds marred the wide expanse of blue sky as the _Black Arrow_ sliced through the choppy waters of the Atlantic. Captain Edward Cullen tilted his head, eyeing with approval the full sails billowing overhead and the full crew busily at work on deck. He stood, legs splayed widely, with a compass open in one palm, the fingers of his other hand wrapped lightly around the wheel. He allowed the ship its head more than trying to force it in a specific direction.

The wind was with them today.

The men knew not their destination, save Jasper Whitlock, the captain's second-in-command and most trusted confidant.

_Only_ trusted confidant, to put a finer point on it. Edward Cullen shared neither his thoughts nor his faith easily, but over the years, he had grown to rely on his first mate and indeed trust him with his life.

That trust had been well-earned. The captain in fact owed his life to Whitlock twice over.

But that was a tale for another day.

"Jasper!" Cullen bellowed, snapping the compass closed and tucking it into his coat pocket. "Assemble the men!"

"Attend the captain!" Jasper shouted immediately, the command echoing across the deck and down the stairs to the bowels of the ship as well. Within minutes, the crew had assembled in a loose circle around the helm, and the captain relinquished the wheel to his Quartermaster, Crowley, and turned to address the men. He said nothing for a moment, just paced before them slowly, gripping the hilt of his dagger in his fist, the thump of his boot heels muffled slightly by the crash of the surf. A patch covered what remained of his left eye, a scar running from his temple to chin evidence of the injury that nearly claimed his life. His good eye glinted bright green in the afternoon sun as he appraised each man before him steadily.

"I know there's been talk about our heading," he began, "and what booty lies at the end of this journey." His stopped his pacing, his gaze locking on each of his men in turn. "At morning's light, we will encounter the _Enchanted Lady,_ and I plan to take her."

At the mention of the notorious vessel, a nervous murmur arose from the crowd.

"Avast!" Jasper barked, silencing the men immediately.

"Now," Captain Cullen continued, "there's treasure aplenty on board the _Lady_, and each will get his fair share. But somewhere on that ship is a chest that is mine, and mine alone." He glared menacingly to emphasize his point. "Jasper will give you a description of the chest. The man who brings it to me will earn a double share of the _Lady's_ treasure." An excited rumbling rolled through the crew.

The captain raised a hand, silencing the men. "And I need not tell you that anyone found to be keeping back a portion of the booty before it's duly divided by Crowley will find himself dangling from the main-mast." His voice lowered to a threatening growl. "And any who might think to keep the chest for himself…I'll see to Davy Jones myself, at the point of my sword."

A collective gulp resounded across the deck, and Cullen turned on his heel abruptly. A flash of movement to his left caught his eye and he paused, seeking out the source. A young boy he didn't recognize huddled behind the massive hulk of Emmett McCarty, the Master Rigger.

"Boy!" the captain called. "Show yourself!"

The crowd parted, all eyes following the captain's gaze as he took a step toward the boy.

"Don't make me ask again," he snarled.

The boy stepped out from behind McCarty tentatively, his bowed head covered by a dark woolen cap. His breeches were torn at the knee, his body swallowed by a voluminous shirt and leather vest. He wrung his hands nervously, and the captain frowned at the delicate bones, wondering how such a fragile creature could survive at sea.

"What's your name, boy?" he asked gruffly.

The boy mumbled an answer.

"Speak up!" Cullen ordered.

"Smith, Sir."

"Smith, eh?" He looked to Jasper questioningly.

His first mate shrugged. "He came on at Hispaniola," he explained. "We needed another powder monkey."

Cullen scowled at the information, for some reason uneasy at the idea of the boy serving on the gun crew. "How old are you, boy?"

The boy hesitated only a moment, and the captain warned, "Do not be lying to me, now."

"Seventeen," he said quietly, his eyes still focused on the deck.

"Seventeen?" Cullen repeated. "Mite small for seventeen, aren't you?" He eyed Jasper, but the man just shrugged again in response. "I doubt he could even carry a half-empty powder barrel, if that," he muttered, half to himself.

"I'm stronger than I look," the boy said stubbornly, and Cullen fought back a chuckle of surprise. The boy had spirit.

Still, spirit had its limits, and the captain quickly rearranged his features into his trademark scowl. "Mind your place, boy."

"Aye, Captain." He wrung his hands again, the knuckles white with tension.

Cullen's good eye narrowed as he came to a decision. "Jasper, have you found a replacement for young Tom, as yet?" The cabin boy had jumped ship in Havana and had not been seen since.

"No," Jasper replied, picking at his teeth with the tip of his knife. "Not yet."

The captain removed his hat, scratching at his scalp briefly before replacing it. "That settles it, then. Smith here will take his place.

"Boy," he said in a brusque tone. "You'll be seeing to my needs from now on. For now, I'll be wanting a shave and my supper." When the boy stood frozen in place, the captain planted his fists on his hips, raising his voice to a near roar. "Move it, Smith! Don't be keeping me waiting!" The boy rushed to the stairs, and the captain stalked after him.

"The rest of you – back to work!" he bellowed, the command echoed by Jasper as the crew rushed back to their stations.

Nobody noticed the satisfied smile on the face of the boy named Smith.

~0~

Captain Cullen wasn't exactly sure what compelled him to help the boy. Part of it was the fact that he did indeed need a replacement for Tom – someone to keep his cabin in order and keep his things in repair. Despite his bloodthirsty reputation, Cullen did have a need for order and structure…discipline amidst the chaos. For in reality, his ship was a well-oiled machine, each crew member fulfilling his tasks with efficiency and pride.

But they also knew how to relax. Which led to the other reason he felt compelled to take young Smith under his wing.

His men worked hard, but they also played hard. After a long day of backbreaking labor, and a few jugs of rum, they were wont to take their pleasure where they could find it. Many would wait until they made port, finding relief in a willing female at pub or a brothel – or in a dark alley, if the need be. But a few took what they could get where it was offered, opting for hard muscles instead of soft curves.

Edward had no problem when both of the participants were consenting. But he'd caught a few longing looks toward young Smith, and he wouldn't stand for anyone taking advantage just because he was smaller and weaker. If the boy chose to participate in some onboard recreation, that was his choice, but no one on his ship would live in fear of such a thing.

Abruptly, Smith halted in the narrow space, and Edward stumbled forward into his back, knocking the boy sideways into the wall. Smith grunted as Edward leaned into him, gripping his hip to regain his balance.

"What the bloody hell?" the captain growled as he righted himself.

"I'm…sorry, sir," the boy said meekly, his eyes on his worn shoes. "I wasn't sure which way to go."

Cullen adjusted the leather belt across his chest that held his flintlock and propped his hands on his hips. "To the right, boy. Through the door."

Smith just nodded and hurried down the dark hallway, tripping slightly over his own feet. The captain followed behind, striding into his quarters and throwing his hat onto the massive bed – one of the captain's few bows to luxury. As soon as he'd taken command of the _Black Arrow_, he'd replaced the uncomfortable bunk with a feather mattress and silken coverings. His cabin was his sanctuary, after all, filled with personal items and prizes from his many conquests. Few were allowed in his personal abode, and even now he was nervous about allowing Smith entrance into his lair. He spotted the boy out of the corner of his eye, standing awkwardly by the door and waiting for instructions.

Cullen sighed. He had no patience for training the boy, but there was really no alternative. Usually, he'd leave the task to Jasper or one of the cook's boys, but he was starving and filthy and he had no time to wait.

"To the galley, boy," he ordered. "Fetch water for my shaving, then see the cook about my meal." When the boy hesitated, he added gruffly. "Be quick about it before I change my mind and have you swabbing the head."

Evidently the threat of having to clean up the toilet area at the bow of the ship was enough to spark Smith into action. He jumped, darting out the door, and Edward chuckled at the sound of his feet pounding toward the kitchen area in the bowels of the ship. He shrugged out of his coat and pulled his weapons belt over his head before tossing them both onto the bed as well. Tugging his shirt from the waistband of his breeches, he reached for the jug of rum on his heavy wooden desk, pouring a hefty dose into a tankard. His dagger belt stayed in place around his hips, a second pistol tucked into it and his jeweled dirk secure in his right boot. Captain Cullen was always armed. Even in sleep, his hand gripped the flintlock under his pillow, his dagger tucked securely beneath the mattress.

Taking a long swallow from the tankard, he collapsed into a carved wooden chair he'd liberated during a raid the pervious summer, rubbing a hand absently over his scruffy cheek. He could glimpse the blue sky out of the porthole above his bed, the swaying of the ship bringing the deeper blue of the sea into view every few seconds. He was lulled by the hypnotic swaying of this ship combined by the relaxing buzz of the rum. So much so, that at first he didn't realize his cabin boy had returned, a steaming bowl of water in his hands.

He waved a beringed hand at a small table beside him. "The soap and razor are on the shelf, over there," he said, pointing across the room. Smith hurried over, setting the bowl on the table carefully but still managing to splash a little on the polished wood. He gasped, using his shirt tail to wipe up the water before retrieving the mug of soap and razor. Adding a little water to the mug, he began to swirl the shaving brush into the soap.

Edward eyed the boy carefully, noticing the nervous way he swallowed. "You ever shave a man before, Smith?" he asked gruffly.

"Aye, sir," his voice squeaked. He cleared his throat. "My…my father."

The captain nodded, leaning his head back on the chair. "Well, carry on then." Smith reached for a strap attached to the side of the table and began to run the straight razor slowly back and forth before testing the edge against his thumb. He reached for the mug without meeting Edward's gaze, and the captain closed his eye and felt the soft sweep of the brush against his skin. He could hear Smith's shaky breaths and wondered why the boy seemed so terrified of him. When the boy set the mug aside and Edward felt the razor touch his cheek, his hand flashed up, gripping Smith's wrist as his eye narrowed on his reddened face.

"Take care, boy," he warned. "I'd not like to have to gut you because your hand slipped." Cullen's hand gripped his dagger, slipping it from the scabbard with a quiet hiss to emphasize his words before laying it across his stomach.

Smith swallowed thickly and nodded. "Aye, sir." The boy hesitated briefly before taking a deep breath and sliding the razor across his skin with a gentle scrape. Edward relaxed, but his fingers remained wrapped around his dagger as the boy shaved him, dipping the razor into the bowl of water between each stroke, and finally wiping his face with a piece of rough toweling. Edward reached for a small tin of salve on the table, dipping his fingers into it before smoothing over his cleanly shaven cheeks. The spicy scent wafted in the air, and he felt the boy watching him carefully.

"An herbal remedy to prevent irritation," he muttered, not sure why he was explaining himself. He put the lid back on the tin and stood abruptly, rounding his desk. "Deal with that," he said gruffly, motioning at the now-soapy water, "and bring me my supper." The captain turned his attention to some documents on the table as Smith hurried to fulfill his wishes.

The captain examined the parchment that had led him this far. It was just a torn scrap bearing only a few words and a portion of a pencil drawing, but it pointed to the _Lady_ as the place to find the chest he sought. It was only a step on his journey, however, for inside…inside the chest was the answer he was looking for. Once he had it, he would have what he'd been seeking since he first took command.

Wealth.

Power.

_Vengeance._

Edward smiled grimly at the thought, rubbing at his eye patch in remembrance. The man who took it – who nearly took his life – would pay. In time, he would pay.

"Sir?" Smith's quiet voice interrupted the captain's concentration, making him jump. The fact that he was startled irritated him more than anything else.

"Must you prowl about like a timid kitten?" he barked.

Smith jumped in surprise, and before he schooled his features, Edward thought he might have spotted another emotion there.

Irritation? No, it was almost…_fury_.

But just as soon as it appeared it was gone, replaced by the fearful hesitance the captain was accustomed to, and Edward thought perhaps he'd imagined it after all.

"Your supper, Sir?" Smith said quietly, and Edward realized he was holding a covered tray. He studied the boy's face for one more moment before he slid his papers into a drawer and waved him over. Smith set the tray on the desk, removing the lid and holding it behind his back. Edward saw his chest expand as if inhaling the scents released into the room – roast sausages, potatoes, some fresh vegetables they'd obtained at the last port, and a small loaf of warm bread. Edward broke off a piece of the bread and popped it into his mouth, washing it down with a swig of rum.

The loud rumble of the boy's stomach drew his arched brow.

"Sorry, Sir," Smith said, his face reddening again as he moved closer to the door. "Is there…something else you need of me…Sir?"

Edward chewed on another piece of bread. "What was your last meal, boy?"

He shifted nervously. "Uh…I had some hardtack and salted beef…a little ale…earlier."

"How much earlier?"

The boy's eyes circled the room, not meeting Edward's as he wrung his hands. "Uh…sometime…yesterday, I think."

The captain sat back in his chair, grunting in irritation. "Yesterday? Of all the…" He tore apart the rest of his bread, laying a few sausages inside before pressing it closed. "Here," he said, tossing the makeshift meal to the boy. "Eat that."

Smith crammed the sandwich into his mouth hungrily. "And in the future, do not be missing meals," Edward added around a mouthful of potato. "You're skinny enough already, and you'll need to pull your weight on my ship. And I will not have you interrupting my concentration with your growling belly…or swooning like some blasted female!"

At that, the boy choked, his eyes growing wide as he covered his mouth to keep his food from spraying around the room.

"Good God!" Cullen growled, rolling his eye as he crossed to the boy and smacked him on the back soundly. Smith continued to cough and Edward reached for his tankard, holding it to his lips.

"Have some of this," he ordered. Smith grabbed at the mug, tilting it back and washing down the food with a large gulp.

Then he began a whole new round of coughing.

"What…what is that?" he asked on a wheeze, tears streaming down his scarlet face.

"Rum. What else?"

"I thought it was water."

The captain laughed. "What man in his right mind drinks water when there's rum to be had?"

"Captain?" Jasper appeared in the doorway. He looked confused at the picture before him, but knew better than to ask any questions.

"What is it?" Edward replied, reaching over the desk and popping a sausage into his mouth.

"We're nearing Sav-la-mar," he replied. "Do you want to make port or remain offshore 'til dawn?"

"Any sign of the _Lady_?"

"None yet."

Edward rubbed his chin in thought. "They've been at sea for months, so they'll put in to Lucea tonight to take on supplies before making the run to Santa Marta. We'll stay here, hidden by the shore and set out to intercept them before first light."

Jasper nodded. "Aye." He turned to head back up on deck.

"Jasper, a word," Edward called after him, casting a glance behind him at Smith before following his first mate into the hallway. He closed the door quietly and lowered his voice.

"Keep an eye on Newton," he ordered. The Master Gunner had only been on board the _Black Arrow_ for about a month, and although Edward didn't fully trust him, he needed the young man's expertise with weapons. "He's shown a particular interest in talk of the _Lady,_ and I've heard rumors from his former crew that he's been known to line his own pockets before the loot has been counted."

"You think he'd dare after your warning?"

The captain shook his head ruefully. "There's no telling. Men can be foolish, and greedy men the most foolish of all."

Whitlock nodded. "I'll assign Jenks to watch him," he said. "I trust him, and he won't let Newton out of his sight once we board tomorrow."

"Are the cannons readied?"

"Aye. We're short on musket balls, but we've plenty of chain shot."

Edward nodded in approval. "Good. Good. Don't let the men overindulge tonight. We'll need to be up before the sun."

"Aye, Cap'n." At that, Jasper walked down the dim hallway toward the deck stairs and Edward turned to re-enter his quarters. He grimaced in anger when he saw young Smith running his finger along the hilt of the cutlass he kept on the shelf behind his desk.

"What are you doing, boy?" he roared. Smith jumped, whirling about and tucking his hands behind his back.

"Sorry…Captain," he stammered, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean anything."

Edward crossed the room, catching the boy up by the collar of his shirt until his toes barely grazed the floor. "Remember, boy," he spat. "You are on this ship…_my_ ship…at my whim. Anger me, and you'll be feeding the fish after a good flogging." He shook Smith like a rag to emphasize his point. "Do not touch anything in this room without my express permission to do so. Is that clear?"

The boy let out a strangled sound and Edward loosened his hold slightly. "I said, is that clear?" he gritted menacingly.

Smith sucked in a breath. "Aye…Aye, Captain."

He released the boy with a shove toward the door. "Off with you, now. Be back at four bells. We set sail before the morning watch."

Smith ducked his head and ran from the room without another word. Edward shook his head in frustration at the boy's audacity as he turned around to consider the cutlass that had held him so enthralled. With a small smile, he pulled it from the shelf, sliding the shining blade from its leather sheath. To most, it would seem like an ordinary sword, he supposed and – except for the single large sapphire set in the hilt – of very little value. Edward knew its true worth, however – and it was far beyond the value of the glittering blue stone. He studied the engraving encircling the gem, whispering the now-familiar words aloud.

_Dixitque Deus fiat lux et facta est lux._

Latin for _And God said, "Let there be light, and there was light."_

The significance of the piece of Scripture, Edward was still unsure of. Yet he knew it was yet another key in the mystery he was endeavoring to solve. One that he would come a step closer to unraveling once he set foot on board the _Enchanted Lady._

~0~

In the bowels of the _Black Arrow_, the boy called Smith scrambled down the dimly-lit hallway, ducking behind casks and into corners whenever anyone else came near. Eventually, he found the door he was looking for and after a quick glance in both directions to ensure he was not being observed, he slipped silently through it.

The storage room was packed full, but there was just enough room behind a large pile of crates for him to create a small pallet to rest his head. Smith grunted as he shoved a wooden chest in front of the door, praying that it would be enough to deter anyone who might decide to enter. No one had tried as of yet, but he couldn't be too careful.

Once the door was barricaded, he padded quietly over to his pallet, lowering himself to the ground with a quiet sigh. He rested for a moment, his back braced against the cool wall. He was a bit lightheaded from the large gulp of rum that still burned his throat – and his hands trembled slightly in memory of his terrifying encounter with the captain. He knew, possibly better than anyone, that Edward Cullen was a cutthroat and a barbarian, and Smith would need to be more careful in the future if he was going to stay alive long enough to complete his goal.

Bone-tired, Smith pulled of his cap and released his clubbed hair from its leather thong, running his fingers through it before scratching at his scalp. He slid the vest from his shoulders and, lifting his oversized shirt, picked at the knot that held the rags bound around his chest. When the cloths finally loosened, Smith unwrapped the rags with a relieved exhale, rubbing at his aching flesh underneath.

The flesh that – were it discovered – would reveal his true identity…or rather, _her_ identity. For Smith was not a boy at all, but rather a young woman of nineteen years who had stolen on board the _Black Arrow_ with only one goal in mind.

To kill the captain.

And now that she'd seen the cutlass, she was more determined than ever to accomplish that goal. Touching it for the first time in almost two years, her throat had closed up in anguished memory.

_He had loved that sword._

In the distance a bell rang. Only two hours until she would have to become Smith again and appear at Cullen's door. She curled her lip in distaste. Becoming his cabin boy gave her a chance she'd been hoping for, but spending any time in close quarters with the man turned her stomach.

Still, she would be near him now – day and night. Near enough to take his miserable life when opportunity presented itself. She'd been tempted while shaving him, but wasn't certain she could complete the task before he could bury that damned dagger in her belly.

No, she would be patient. And when Cullen had his guard down – perhaps even when he was sleeping – or deep in his vile rum – she would take that cutlass into her hand and slit his traitorous neck.

Crass, perhaps. But she had long abandoned the idea of acting as a proper lady. Since the day her father was killed – the sapphire-embellished sword stolen from his still-warm body – and she'd set out to track down his murderer, only to learn that One-Eyed Eddie Cullen was to blame.

She smiled. Perhaps she'd call him that to his face as he bled to death. Few did and survived, but she would.

Aye.

One day soon, Isabella Swan would have her revenge.


	2. Chapter 2: Taking the Lady

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **Thank you for all of your encouraging reviews for the first chapter. They really mean a lot to me. I'm sorry I was unable to reply, but please know I read and appreciate each one.

I know you have a lot of questions, and I promise they will be answered…eventually. In the meantime, here are the ones I can answer right now.

**YES** – Edward really has one eye.

**YES **– Jasper is hot.

**NO **– I did not name the _Black Arrow _after the FF author, although I did love The Blessing & the Curse, so it's possible I did it subconsciously.

That's it for now… the rest will have to wait.

Thanks to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her hard work with this, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

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><p><em><strong>Today, as I perused earlier entries in this record, I realized something I have only as of late began to suspect. My life, such as it is, has become a tedious routine consisting of mundane tasks that no longer hold my interest, if they ever did at all. I trudge to my place of employment every morning, and back home every afternoon, stopping perchance for a pint or a bit to eat. My friends have established themselves and seem content enough, but I remain removed from their happiness, able to observe, but not to participate.<strong>_

_**I find myself waiting, although I have yet to determine for what.**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 4 March, 1665**_

**Chapter 2: Taking the Lady**

By the time four bells sounded, Isabella was dressed, her breasts re-bound, and standing at Captain Cullen's door. She managed to doze a little, but still couldn't get used to sleeping with the constant noise and activity on board the ship. It was at a frenzied level at that moment, men scurrying here and there readying to get underway. With a deep breath, she rapped her knuckles on the wooden door, rubbing a knuckle over her gritty eyes.

"Enter!" Cullen barked. She squared her shoulders before shoving the door open and stepping into the room, nearly giving into a wave of fury as she realized the captain was strapping on her father's cutlass. He had his back to her, so she forced another deep breath, willing her muscles to relax so she not give away her boiling hatred for the man before her.

The captain shot her a glance over his shoulder. "Did you eat?" he asked gruffly.

"No, sir."

Cullen huffed in annoyance and reached over to a plate sitting on his table, tossing her a piece of hardtack. "There's ale in the jug," he growled. "Make haste. There is much to do before we set sail."

Isabella hurried over to the table, pouring a mug of ale and breaking the hardtack into it quickly. It softened, absorbing the liquid, and she shoveled it into her mouth with a spoon, trying to ignore the bland taste.

"Are you armed, boy?" Cullen asked as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I've a dirk in my boot," she replied quietly.

"Have you ever used it?"

She just shook her head in response, earning another irritated glare. Cullen crossed to his desk drawer, pulling out a small pistol and handing it to her, handle first. "Tuck that into your belt," he ordered as he turned his back to examine his own flintlocks. "You'll not be taking part in the raid, but it's best to be prepared for whatever may happen. I doubt you have the strength to do much damage with a dirk, but any idiot can use a pistol if needed."

Isabella bristled at the insult, and her hand trembled. It would be so simple to lift the pistol…to point it at the back of his head…

Her hand rose of its own accord, and Isabella focused on the spot where a silken scarf revealed the reddish ropes of hair underneath. The beads braided into the ends of his long hair clinked lightly as he worked on his guns and Isabella wondered absently why he let it grow so long.

It didn't matter. The time had come. In a moment, he would be dead.

"You'll be at my side through the raid," he said absently. "And I expect my orders to be followed explicitly and immediately."

"Aye, Sir," she replied quietly.

The pistol weighed heavily in her outstretched arm as her finger hovered over the trigger. Could she cock it without him hearing? She reached up with her other hand, locking her thumbs over the hammer lightly.

A loud pounding at the door had her dropping her hands to her sides just as Cullen whirled about. He eyed her curiously, and she wondered if he could see her pounding heart…her cold and clammy skin. She dropped her eyes, tucking the pistol securely into her belt as Cullen turned to the door.

"Enter!" he bellowed.

The first mate poked his head into the room. "The men are ready, Captain. Shall we weigh anchor?"

The captain grabbed his hat, plopping it onto his head as he neared the door. "Aye," he answered. "Keep the lanterns out. We don't want them to know we're coming.

"Smith!" he barked. "My spyglass!"

"Aye, Sir," Isabella answered, plucking it off his desk and nearly running to keep up with his long strides as he emerged on deck. She dodged between bustling crewmen in the darkness, the new moon aiding them on their errand by keeping the _Arrow_ hidden in the darkness. Her eyes quickly grew accustomed to the lack of light, and she was able to navigate the deck relatively easily, still on Cullen's heels.

"I'll stay at the wheel with Crowley," he told Jasper as he observed the activity of the crew. His head bowed low as he spoke quietly to his first mate. "We don't want the sound to carry, so I'll relay my orders through Smith.

"We'll wait in open water," he continued. "But we'll not move on the _Lady_ until it's too late for her to turn tail and run."

Jasper turned to the east. "If the sun rises, we will lose the element of surprise."

"Then we'll make chase," Edward replied. "The _Lady_ hasn't a chance of outrunning the _Arrow._ I doubt it will come to that, though." He reached out to test some rigging, nodding in approval. "Renard won't want to risk daylight carrying all of that booty on open water." The captain of the _Enchanted Lady _may have been more merchant than seaman, but he was no idiot. "No," Cullen mused. "He'll come to us, and he won't realize his mistake until it's too late."

"Is he carrying passengers?" Whitlock asked.

Cullen nodded. "I expect so. Remind the men that innocents are not to be harmed."

"Aye, Sir."

After that, a stillness overcame the crew as all eyes trained to the west, looking for any sign of the ship rounding the coastline. The soft lapping of the waves, gentle clacking of the rigging, and an occasional low murmur lulled Isabella into relaxation. Her lack of sleep and the current break in activity had her head nodding more than once, and she braced her feet apart, blinking widely to fight the urge to nap. The minutes seemed to tick along with every heartbeat, each man tensed in preparation for the fight ahead. Isabella watched them carefully, trying to maintain the same alertness. Slowly, the stars began to dim as the sky lightened, and Jasper cast a worried eye to the captain.

"Where is it?" he muttered lowly.

"Patience," Cullen replied.

"You said before dawn."

"Patience," the captain repeated. "Obviously, Renard is more confident, or more stupid, than I anticipated."

"Are you certain he's destined for Santa Marta?" Jasper asked nervously.

"He's coming," Cullen replied, tolerant of his first mate when the same question from anyone else would gain a far less pleasant response. "See? There!" He pointed to the horizon, extending his other hand for his spyglass. Isabella handed it over quickly, and he put it to his eye. "Aye, there she is," he murmured, the white sails of the _Lady_ glowing slightly above the dark sea. He turned to his friend with a grin, his green eye twinkling in the early dawn light. "All right, Jasper. What's say we have a bit of fun?"

The first mate grinned in response and hurried off to relay the order for the _Black Arrow_ to get underway. In an instant, the deck was abuzz with activity as the crew weighed anchor and McCarty, the Master Rigger led the hoisting of the sails. As the sun rose, any need for stealth was gone, and instead they'd rely on their appearance as a friendly vessel.

"Raise the French colors," Cullen ordered. In a moment, the French flag waved overhead, barely visible in the dim moonlight. Captain Laurent Renard would think the _Arrow _carried his own countrymen, at least at first. Not until they were ready to attack would the flag be replaced by Cullen's own standard – a white skull on a black field, the captain's own trademark red scarf wrapped around the grisly head.

The captain raised his spyglass again, now able to make out the forms of the men on deck. They seemed unalarmed, moving about their duties in a relaxed and easy way. Cullen smiled as they cut through the sea and the pink light of dawn gave way to daylight.

"Steady, boys," he called out. "Ready the cannons, but hold your fire until we're right on top of them!"

Isabella tensed as the two ships drew nearer to each other. How long would he wait? She glanced at the captain, her skin prickling with nervous energy, but he seemed calm, a small, satisfied smirk on his lips.

"Tell Newton to ready the cannons," he told her. She jumped in surprise, not expecting the order that would usually go through Jasper. The first mate was on the far end of the ship, however, standing readied near the bow. Isabella ran down to the gun deck, seeking out the Master Gunner.

"The captain said to ready the cannons," she told him breathlessly, trying to ignore the appraising way his gaze dragged over her form. It had been a shock the first time one of the men had looked at her in such a way – not that she'd never been ogled before, but it hadn't crossed her mind that it might happen while she was dressed as a boy. Before coming on board, Isabella had been blissfully unaware that men at times found solace in the arms of other men. It was only when she'd rounded a dark corner to find two crewmen locked in an embrace that it all came into sharp focus. She'd stopped in shock, hidden by the shadows as one of the men had dropped to his knees, tugging at the other's breeches. Stifling a gasp, Isabella managed to stumble back the way she'd come, and vowed to be more careful where she wandered alone at night.

Since then, she'd become used to the lustful glances of some of the crewmen, and Newton's were the worst of all. Isabella was usually very careful to avoid the man, certain that he was not used to holding back when it came to his baser desires.

Isabella shuddered slightly at the thought.

"They're always ready," Newton replied suggestively, his leering grin made even more distasteful by his rotting teeth. Isabella forced back a grimace, instead looking behind him at the row of cannons. Despite his disgusting nature, Newton's boast was true. Each cannon was loaded and manned, only needing to be rolled forward into firing position moments before the assault.

"I'll tell him," she said with a nod, only to be stopped when she turned to go by his sweaty hand on her arm. He tugged her close, his foul breath wafting over her cheek.

"You're a skinny little thing," he murmured in her ear, "but not altogether unpleasing to the eye. And ye'r almost as soft as a wench." His hand trailed down her back and squeezed her backside aggressively. "After the battle, what say you and me have a little…private celebration?"

Isabella fought back a rush of bile in her throat, instead reaching slowly for the flintlock in her belt. Newton's eyes widened at the sound of the hammer cocking, and he looked down to see the muzzle pressed up against his belly. He released her immediately, stepping back with his hands raised defensively.

"It was just a kindly offer," he protested, his cocky smile belied by the sweat on his upper lip.

"Consider this my polite refusal," she retorted, backing away as she uncocked the pistol and tucked it back in her belt. "I'll let the captain know you're ready." She hurried up the stairs, pausing just before emerging on deck. She leaned heavily against the wall, her heart hammering in her chest as she tried to catch her breath.

Her encounter with Newton has shaken her badly. She knew that if he chose to force his attentions on her, she would not be able to fight him off. Fortunately, the captain was well known for opposing rape in all its forms. It felt strange that she would feel comforted by that – that reliance for her own well-being relied on the very man she aimed to kill.

It was a strange world, indeed.

She shook off her musings and drew a deep breath to steady herself as she hurried back to the captain. "Cannons are readied, Sir," she said in a firm voice.

A nod in assent was her only response before Cullen turned to the Quartermaster. "Starboard ten degrees, bring us up on her port side."

"Aye, Cap'n," Crowley responded, turning the wheel slightly.

"Easy," Cullen murmured. "Easy…steady, now. Not too close, we don't want to raise an alert."

They finally drew close enough to see the crew on board clearly. Isabella picked out the captain easily, and he raised a hand in greeting, still apparently unaware that he was moments from his doom.

Edward chuckled, then raised a hand in response as he bellowed. "Raise the colors!"

Isabella watched in awe as everything seemed to happen at once – the French flag was replaced by the Cullen flag, its eerie grin flapping in the wind. A loud crack sounded as the cannons locked into position pointing through the gun ports, and the Captain yelled, "Take aim!"

It happened within seconds – as Captain Renard looked on in confusion, his hand still frozen in the air.

"Fire!" Cullen bellowed, the order echoed by Whitlock – then Newton – before a blast of cannonfire exploded in the stillness. The warning shot arced over the bow of the _Lady_, the crew scrambling in a panicked frenzy.

The warning went unheeded, though, and Captain Cullen hadn't really expected Renard to give up without a fight. As his men rushed to load their own cannons, Cullen bellowed out another firing order, and the rest of the cannons let loose – this time exploding onto the deck of the ship. Isabella's hands flew to her ears out of reflex, and through the smoke she could just make out the figure of Captain Renard, waving his arms and ordering his men to return fire.

"Bring us alongside her, Crowley!" Cullen shouted as the _Lady _floundered in the water. Renard shouted to his crew, then noticed his pilot had been targeted in the latest volley and the wheel was unmanned. He shoved through the frantic crew, desperate to get his ship under control.

It was too late.

"Grappling hooks!" The captain's order echoed in the air as the men swung the huge hooks up and away to the deck of the _Lady._ As they caught hold, the men pulled the ropes in unison, muscles straining and voices united in loud grunts and shouts of nearing victory. With the two ships tethered together, the crew of the _Arrow_ bounded onto the other ship, cutlasses flashing in the sunlight and the sounds of pistol fire peppering the air.

The clash of metal and shouts of battle filtered through the smoke as Isabella watched the fight from her position at Cullen's side. He stood, one foot braced on the gunwale of the_ Arrow, _the other on the_ Lady, _a flintlock in each hand as he bellowed orders at the men below. He took aim as one of Renard's crewmen raced for the cannons, shooting the man in the leg. He fell to the deck with a cry of pain and Edward shot again, this time hitting the rigging on the mizzenmast and releasing the heavy sail onto the heads of three men fighting against his crew.

Cullen holstered his pistols and drew his cutlass – _her father's cutlass_, Isabella corrected herself – and jumped into the midst of the fray with only a quick, "Stay here, Smith!" grunted over his shoulder. He slashed through the twisting bodies, meeting Whitlock and turning to fight back to back with his first mate.

"You call this a bit of fun?" Jasper asked wryly, throwing up his own sword to block a heavy blow.

"Oh, come on, Jasper," he replied with a slight laugh, spinning to the left to swing at barrel-chested man brandishing a dagger in each meaty fist. "You can't say you're not enjoying this!"

They fought in a coordinated dance that could only be achieved after dozens of such battles and years of developing trust. Lunging and turning, each defended the other's weak spots, their swords slashing through the air.

Then, as quickly as it started, the fight was over, and Renard's crew knelt in defeat on the deck of the _Lady_, their hands bound behind them and heads bowed low. Cullen's men rounded up a handful of passengers who'd retreated to their quarters when the fighting began, and they stood in a small circle, fear evident on all of their faces. The crew of the _Arrow _was scattered about the deck, holding weapons on the prisoners and unable to hide their satisfied grins.

"Whitlock," the captain said in a firm voice as he paced before the crew. "Divide the men to search the ship. I want the treasure on board before our presence here attracts any interest.

"Smith!" he shouted, and Isabella scrambled nervously across the gap between the two ships. "Collect any trinkets the passengers might be hiding away." He turned to glare at the group. "You'll not be wanting to keep anything back, if you value your lives," he warned, and immediately, they began twisting off rings and pulling out pocket watches. Isabella took a small bag Jasper held out to her and made her way to the little group. Holding it out, she fought a sick feeling in her stomach as each valuable was dropped into the bag.

"Please," an older woman begged, as she fingered her gold necklace with tears in her eyes. "It was my mother's." Isabella's heart sank. She never knew her own mother, who'd died when she was born, and the woman's plea put a lump in her throat. She glanced about, looking for the captain, only to find him studying her intently.

Isabella swallowed thickly. He was watching her, seeing if she could handle the responsibility he'd given her. If she failed this test, she'd lose the opportunity to do what she came here to do.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, not meeting the woman's eyes. Isabella jerked the bag toward her insistently and tried to ignore the woman's quiet sobs as she unclasped the necklace and turned it over. Without another word, Isabella returned to the _Arrow_, putting the bag onto the pile of spoils the Quartermaster was already tallying. She went to work with the rest of the crew, quickly transferring the cargo of the _Lady_ onto the _Arrow, _all the while keeping an eye out for crown ships or other buccaneers who might be tempted to steal the treasure for themselves.

Breathing heavily and wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of a hand, Isabella leaned against a large crate for a moment of rest. The men continued to work around her, and she tried not to attract attention as she scanned the crew in search of the captain. He'd disappeared belowdecks of the _Lady_ and had yet to emerge.

"Smith!" Crowley barked, making her jump. She turned to him, but he didn't look up from the ledger where he was marking down the day's take. "Get back to work," he ordered. "No rest until we're underway."

Isabella bit back a retort. She was tired of taking orders. Tired of being surrounded by smelly, disgusting men. Tired of being a criminal. She was filled with guilt and anger…frustration that this plan of hers seemed to be falling apart around her. Men were trying to touch her. She was stealing necklaces from nice ladies and making them cry. She was carrying a pistol, for heaven's sake!

Then she saw him. Captain Cullen stepping out onto the deck, smiling at his men, her father's sword swinging at his hip.

_Yes._ There was her purpose.

And Isabella knew she would endure any torment to make him pay for what he'd done. With a deep breath, she crossed to the _Lady_ and hefted another box over to Cullen's ship, hate and fury burning in her gut as she watched the captain celebrate with his men.

A shout drew his attention, and Isabella saw the first mate rush over to Cullen, a small box in his hands. He held it out and the captain's smile grew as he took it from Whitlock, clutching it against his chest. With another quiet word to the first mate, he hastily climbed over to the _Arrow _and hurried to his quarters without another word to anyone.

"Make haste!" Whitlock shouted. "The rest of this to our hold quickly. We make way in fifteen minutes!"

"What of the crew?" McCarty bellowed back, casting a smirking grin to the men on their knees.

"Leave them bound," the first mate replied. "By the time they cut themselves loose, we'll be well on our way."

As the men doubled their efforts, hurrying from one ship to the other, Isabella's eyes strayed to the doorway where the captain had disappeared. He was alone, and everyone was so busy, they'd most likely not notice her absence. She glanced at Crowley, who was hefting a large chest with another man toward the opposite end of the ship.

Could this be her chance? Her fingers drifted to the flintlock at her waist, rubbing the handle slowly. Stepping quickly and staying out of the way as much as possible, she made her way to the captain's quarters. Checking over her shoulder once more to assure she hadn't been noticed, she stepped down into the dark hallway, willing her eyes to adjust quickly. She ducked into a doorway, listening closely for voices or footsteps. Hearing none, Isabella stepped lightly to the captain's door, pressing her ear to it before silently turning the knob.

Through the crack in the door, she could make out the back of Edward Cullen. He was not sitting at his desk, but bent over the front of it, examining something closely…so closely, in fact, that he didn't look up when Isabella stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

"That you, Smith?" he muttered, still focused on his desk.

Isabella jumped, not realizing he'd noticed her entrance. "Aye, Sir," she said out of habit. "How did you know it was me?"

He laughed humorlessly. "Nothing happens on this ship without my knowledge," he replied. "Now, what is it?"

All this time, he had yet to look up at her…and Isabella realized that if there were a time for her to accomplish her mission, this was it. Silently, she slipped the flintlock pistol from her belt, holding it up with both hands. She cocked the gun, and at the sound, Cullen's shoulders stiffened, and he slowly straightened and turned around, his eyes dark and furious.

"What is this?" he hissed.

Isabella fought the tremor in her voice. "I would think that was obvious."

Cullen's jaw tightened and Isabella could feel the waves of anger radiating off his skin. "Are you planning to use that?" he asked, his eyes dipping briefly to the pistol gripped in her white-knuckled hands.

She said nothing.

"Have you ever shot a man while he looked you in the eye, Smith?" he continued in a low voice, taking a slow step toward her. "Locked gazes while you took his life?"

Her hand trembled slightly, but she lifted the gun in determination. "I can kill you."

Cullen froze.

"Any why would you do such a thing?" Another step. Another jerk of the gun. Another standoff.

"You killed my father."

The only reaction was a slight narrowing of his good eye. "Aye. I'd imagine I've killed a few fathers. You'll need to be more specific."

To Isabella's dismay, a rush of tears pricked at her eyes and she swallowed back the emotion, squaring her shoulders.

"You killed Charles Swan."

For the first time, there was a break in Cullen's cold demeanor, and Isabella thought she saw a glimmer of surprise light his eyes.

_Oh yes_, she thought. _I know the truth, you bastard._

"Swan?" he repeated. "Not…_Captain_ Charlie Swan."

Isabella stiffened. "He resigned his commission before I was born."

Cullen snorted. "Commission?"

"I've been searching for you for almost two years," she said, ignoring his comment. "Ever since that day you left him bleeding and dying on the floor in his study."

The captain took another small step toward her, and she realized the muzzle of the pistol was now inches from his chest. Her hand tightened on the grip, her finger poised over the trigger.

"I didn't kill your father, boy," he said quietly.

"Liar," she spat.

"It wasn't me."

The determination in his eyes shook her slightly.

_No. She couldn't be wrong…could she?_

But it didn't matter. The brief doubt – the moment of hesitation – was all Captain Cullen needed. In one fluid motion his hand flew up, knocking the pistol away from her chest as he spun her around, locking his arm around her neck. The pistol clattered across the floor as she struggled against him, but she was no match for his superior strength. He forced her against the desk, the sharp corner of the wooden top bruising her stomach.

"Now," he gritted in her ear, "tell me who you really are…and why I shouldn't kill you right now."

Isabella fought for breath, tears pricking her eyes. She clawed at his forearm, but he ignored her struggles.

"Answer me!" he demanded.

"I…I can't…" she rasped. With an exasperated huff, he loosened his hold slightly and Isabella drew in a gasping breath.

"Who are you?" he repeated.

"I told you –"

"You lie!" he interrupted with a shout. "I happen to know that Charlie Swan had no sons. His wife died giving birth to his only daugh…" Cullen's voice trailed off, and Isabella felt him stiffen slightly.

"No…" he murmured, suddenly spinning her around and shoving her back against the desk. His fingers dug into her upper arms and Isabella raised her chin, fighting back the tears. He wrapped one hand around her chin, his green eye glittering as it examined her face more closely.

Isabella reached out beside her, her fingers searching the desktop for something…anything to use as a weapon. Her hand closed around an object, but she dared not look to see what it was.

"It can't be," he said, his eyes dropping from her face to her body as his shock loosened his hold on her ever so slightly.

Seizing the moment, Isabella lifted the heavy paperweight and with all her strength slammed it into Cullen's temple. His eye widened in surprise as his grip on her tightened painfully. She lifted her hand to strike again, but Edward crumpled to the floor. Isabella stood over him, her heart racing wildly as she tried desperately to breathe.

_Had she done it? Was he dead?_

A moment of euphoria was followed almost immediately by a wave of nausea. She looked down at his slumped form, the paperweight still clutched in her hand. Her dazed gaze drifted to the small statue – a bronze casting of a roaring lion standing on its hind legs. A dark smear marred the metal, and as it dripped onto her hand, Isabella realized what it was.

Blood. _His_ blood.

With a whimper, Isabella dropped the paperweight, and it hit the wooden floor with a thunk, coming to rest against his shoulder. More blood trickled from his head, winding its way through his tangled hair to seep into the floorboards.

Isabella's hand flew to her mouth as she dropped to her knees.

_What had she done?_

True, Edward Cullen was a murderer. But now…now, she was as well.

Suddenly, the door to the cabin burst open and Jasper Whitlock rushed in.

"Captain, a crown ship approaches!" His words ended on a shocked gasp as he took in the scene before him. Isabella jumped to her feet, fear and panic pushing aside the guilt that paralyzed her. She dashed for the door, only to be caught up into the first mate's strong arms. He held her in an iron grip, her toes barely touching the floor.

"Release me!" She kicked at him, but he held her easily. A moan from the floor had both of them stilling their motions.

"He lives," Isabella murmured in relief, quickly followed by a chill of fear.

She would die. Unless she could escape, she would die.

Cullen groaned again, drawing Whitlock's attention, and Isabella fought against her instincts and went limp, feigning a swoon. The first mate adjusted his grip, muttering in complaint, and Isabella took the opportunity to sink her teeth into his arm…hard.

Whitlock jerked in surprise, and Isabella whirled about, kicking her knee between his legs with all her strength. With a loud groan, his body closed in on itself, falling to the floor next to the captain.

Isabella knew it was a matter of time before someone else came looking, so she dashed for the door, pausing only long enough to pluck her father's cutlass off of Cullen's desk. She ran for the stairs, keeping to the shadows, and emerged onto the deck, walking quickly and avoiding eye contact with anyone. The crew ignored her as they hurried about, securing the load and preparing to get underway. She ducked behind a pile of canvas and took a deep breath, trying to think of her next move.

Her eyes darted about the deck, looking for a place to hide.

But she knew there was no place to hide. Once the captain regained consciousness, his crew would tear the ship apart looking for her.

…_a crown ship approaches!_

Jasper's words wormed their way into her mind. A crown ship? She turned to survey the horizon, biting her lip at the sight of the ship bearing down on them…and the long expanse of swirling sea before it.

Could she make it? Isabella was a strong swimmer, but the thought filled her with apprehension. She glanced back at the doorway leading to the captain's quarters.

It was her only hope.

With grim determination, she gripped the cutlass tightly, drawing the belt over her head and one arm and securing the buckle about her body. She climbed up onto the gunwhale, relieved to find one of the boarding ropes dangling nearby.

She wouldn't have to jump.

Isabella grabbed onto the rope, wincing at the scrape against her tender skin. Holding herself away from the hull with her legs, she slowly slid down the rope, hand over hand, all the while listening for the alert she knew was coming.

Afraid she was running out of time, Isabella took a deep breath and released the rope, plunging into the angry sea. She pulled against the water, and broke the surface with a sputter and gasp as the waves carried her away, helping her toward the English ship and away from the _Black Arrow_. She glanced back to find the _Arrow_ at full sail, cutting through the water away from her…fleeing the crown ship.

Isabella smiled…and began to swim.

~0~

Captain Edward Cullen held the spyglass to his eye, his jaw clenched in anger and determination. Through it he saw young Smith – no…young _Swan_, he corrected – on board the _HMS Intrepid_. His cutlass glinted in the sunlight, and she waved her arms as she spoke to the crewmen on board. After a moment, the commander of the vessel appeared.

Hunter. Commodore James Hunter. Edward knew him well.

The _Black Arrow_ had easily evaded the _Intrepid, _circling around the island before cutting into a hidden bay. It was a trick that Cullen had used in the past, and one that had yet to fail him. Changing sails, they'd raised the English colors, but still stayed far enough away from the _Intrepid_ as they followed it to avoid identification.

"Captain?" Whitlock approached him, holding out a rag. "You're still bleeding."

"It will pass," he growled, but he took the rag anyway, pressing it to his temple. The wench had gotten the better of him, but her actions would not go unpunished.

The first mate followed his gaze to the _Intrepid. _"Are we going after her, then?" Cullen had revealed Smith's true identity to him.

"Aye."

"Hunter won't like it."

"No, I don't expect he will."

"Perhaps it would be better to leave it alone."

"No," Cullen snapped, glaring at his friend. "Miss Swan will answer for her deeds. And I will have my cutlass returned."

"It was her father's," he reminded the captain.

"Was," Cullen replied shortly, looking through the spyglass again. "Now, it is mine."

Whitlock decided against the obvious comment that it was actually Miss Swan's, at the moment. Instead, he asked, "What will you do with her when we get her?"

Cullen smiled slightly at the thought.

"You wouldn't..." Jasper cleared his throat. "You wouldn't force the girl, would you?" Although she'd all but emasculated him, the first mate still would not wish such a fate on anyone.

"You know better than to ask that," the captain replied distastefully. Still, there were ways for him to get his revenge short of raping the girl. No, he was not one to harm a female – even one as infuriating as the Swan chit – but she would pay.

"So what will you do?" Whitlock asked.

Cullen smiled again, watching two of Hunter's men take the girl by the arms to drag her away. He could almost hear her protests and he chuckled slightly. Evidently, the _Intrepid_ was not the refuge she'd hoped for.

"Edward?" Jasper asked again. "What will you do?"

The Swan girl kicked one of the guards in the shin, and this time Edward laughed out loud.

"Just have a bit of fun, Jasper," he told his first mate. "Just have a good bit of fun."

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><p><strong>AN: A word about historical accuracy – **There will be **some** in this story, mixed in with a **ton** of artistic license. Yes, I've researched a lot of the information, but the fact is – pirates were generally dirty, smelly, gross criminals – and who wants to read about an Edward with rotting teeth?

So take it all with a grain of salt. Hopefully, I've provided enough historical accuracy to make it plausible, but the goal is – in Captain Cullen's words – a good bit of fun.

Thanks for reading – See you Tuesday!


	3. Chapter 3: Captured

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **Thank you all so much for your wonderful feedback about the story so far. Although I failed at replying to reviews, I do read them all and so appreciate you taking the time to comment.

Thanks to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her hard work with this, and to **KitsuShel** for pre-reading.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I overheard something today I believe too outlandish to be truth. Still, however, I feel I must investigate. I hesitate to record the conversation here, lest it be discovered without my knowledge and all my plans will be for naught. <strong>_

_**Perhaps when I learn more.**_

_**This situation demands I take utmost care. **_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 28 May, 1665**_

**Chapter 3: Captured**

"No, you don't understand!" Isabella struggled against the strong hands holding her. "Please, allow me to explain!"

The two guards ignored her pleas, pausing only to strip her father's cutlass from her body before forcing her through a low doorway. She cast one last frantic look over her shoulder, but Commodore Hunter had turned away to address a member of his crew.

Isabella fought a surge of panic and tears. Her wet clothes dripped on the wooden floors as she stumbled down the narrow hallway, and she shivered, her muscles still aching after her long swim. Only desperation had kept her arms reaching, her legs kicking, as she fought against the crashing waves, the crown ship disappearing then reappearing as she topped every white-tipped crest. She'd thought the _Intrepid_ would be her salvation. Instead, she'd been treated like a common criminal.

The commodore had looked down his nose at her distastefully as she heaved and panted, trying to catch her breath.

"Please…please…" she managed to gasp out, before ceremoniously falling to her knees and vomiting on the deck. Wiping the cuff of her shirt across her mouth, Isabella stood on shaky legs only to face Hunter's icy blue eyes, no longer curious, but hard and cold. It only took a moment for Isabella to determine the reason why. Behind him stood the passengers of the _Enchanted Lady_, including the woman who'd pled to keep her mother's necklace. She pointed a shaking finger at Isabella in accusation, her head held high.

"He's a thief," she said in a firm voice, "one of the pirates who besieged us, the murderous monsters!"

Hunter had spared not a moment ordering that Isabella be thrown in chains.

"The crown does not tolerate piracy," he snarled at her.

"No…I'm not…" Isabella's heart raced, and the words in her defense would not form on her lips. She still could not catch her breath.

"Fear not. You will be treated fairly and will stand trial," Hunter assured her blandly. "But if found guilty, be assured you will hang."

Isabella's blood froze. "No!"

"Take him," he ordered.

How had it come to this? She had been over-confident, Isabella had to admit, racing forward when she should have tread carefully. But when she'd learned the identity of her father's killer, a single focus had taken over her mind – to find and kill Edward Cullen. And when she had the opportunity to take a position on his ship – to get close enough to accomplish her vengeful goal – she hadn't thought twice.

She should have.

One of the guards released her, stepping forward to unlock a wooden door. It swung open with a creak, and Isabella squinted into its dark interior. A stack of casks and crates hulked along the walls of a storeroom of some sort. The guard stepped in around the corner, only to re-emerge with a pair of shackles dangling from his hands.

"No, please. I must speak to the commodore," she pleaded. "I'm not what he thinks I am. Please!"

The guards said nothing as they shackled her hands and shoved her into the room. After locking the shackles to a chain bolted to the floor, the men left, locking the door behind them.

"Please!" she shouted at the door as the darkness enveloped her. "I'm not a criminal. I need to speak to the commodore!" Isabella shuffled toward the door, fear setting in as the weight of the chain pulled at her arms. A small barred window near the top of the door revealed the profile of one of her captors.

"Listen!" she exclaimed, an idea forming. "I can help the commodore. Tell him…tell him I have information about One-Eyed Eddie Cullen!" She held her breath, waiting for a response. Surely, Commodore Hunter could not resist such a temptation. Cullen was an enemy to the Crown, a murderer and thief. Capturing such a man would ensure the commodore's advancement, perhaps gaining him a title and lands in acknowledgement of his service.

The guard said nothing, and after a moment she heard him speaking with the other man in a low voice. She sighed, her eyes scanning the small room for a means of escape or a weapon of some sort. Shuffling slowly along the chilled walls, she circled the tiny room as far as her chains would allow, but there was no other opening save a small porthole high upon the wall. She was considering the possibility of opening one of the crates with no tools when a quiet voice called out to her.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

She jumped, despite the low tenor of the man's voice.

"Hello?" he said again, slightly louder.

Isabella turned in the direction of the voice, but could only make out dim shapes and shadows of the cargo before her. She stood, shuffling awkwardly across the small room.

"Where are you?" she asked, her voice a near-whisper to avoid the guards overhearing.

"Here," the voice replied. "In the corner."

Isabella held out her chained hands, fumbling her way through a small opening in the stack of crates. Squinting in the dim light, she could just make out a large black shape in the corner, a man huddled inside a small cell.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Are you all right?" She started toward him, stopped short by the chain. "Who are you?" she asked hesitantly. The man was obviously a criminal of some sort, and she dared not venture too near to him.

The man chuckled, almost as if reading her mind. "I will not harm you," he assured her. "Tell me, why would the commodore take a wench into custody? Did you steal the silver whilst your patron slept?"

Isabella stiffened at the intimation that she was a lady of ill repute. "Patron? I'll have you know—" She stopped mid-sentence. "Wait. How did you know I am a lady?"

"I do not believe I called you a _lady_," he replied with a laugh.

"Do not insult me, Sir."

"Jacob."

"I beg your pardon."

"My name is Jacob. Jacob Black."

Isabella sniffed. "Well, Mr. Black. I _am _a lady and not of the sort you imply. But since I am attired in the garb of a man, I am curious how you knew this fact."

"I cannot see you."

"What?"

"It is dark. I cannot see you, so I know nothing of your attire," he said, a tinge of annoyance in his tone. "But your voice is obviously that of a female, which leads me back to my original question. Why are you here?"

Isabella sighed, sitting heavily on a nearby crate and reaching up absently to rub at the necklace she always wore under her clothes. It had been a risk to keep it on, but the necklace was a gift from her father and it always brought her comfort.

"It is all a misunderstanding," she said finally.

"It usually is." He laughed. Isabella noticed a slight lilt to the man's voice, a musical accent she'd heard often in the islands.

"The commodore believes me to be a pirate," she said.

"But you are not."

"Of course not!"

"So why does he believe you to be?"

Isabella paused, unsure of how much to tell this stranger. "I was in disguise…on a secret mission aboard a pirate's vessel. I needed to act the part, lest I be discovered by the crew."

"A mission for whom?"

"For myself."

"What type of mission?"

"That…is private," she replied after a moment. "What of you? What lands you in the commodore's clutches?"

"A similar charge." He adjusted his position and gasped slightly in pain.

"You're injured," she observed, unable to mask her concern.

Jacob laughed humorlessly. "The commodore's methods of persuasion are a bit…primitive."

"He beat you?"

"Not him," he corrected. "His men. It matters not, though. Worse awaits me when we make port."

"You'll get a fair trial, certainly," she offered weakly.

Jacob shifted again. "What is your name?"

"Isabella." Then, for reasons she couldn't exactly grasp, she corrected, "Bella. My friends call me Bella."

"Well, Bella," he said, gripping the bars to lower himself to the floor. He sat, his back against the wall, but the cell was not large enough for him to stretch his legs. "Fair trials are not for men like me."

"What do you mean?"

"You cannot see me."

Bella blinked, unsure of what that had to do with anything. "I see you. Well, a little at least."

"I am of these islands, Bella," he explained, his voice hard. "I am not English, nor my skin pale enough to warrant a fair trial. I will be fortunate if I am able to enjoy a last meal before I'm sent to the gallows."

Bella was silent, absorbing his words for a moment. Then, she asked, "Are you…are you guilty?"

"I stole food for a starving family. If that is indeed a crime, I am guilty."

Bella shivered, and pulled her knees up onto the crate, wrapping her shackled arms around them. "That doesn't seem wrong. How can they accuse you?"

"I would think you, of all people, would know not every person accused of a crime is guilty of it."

Bella started, then felt a small smile lift her lips. "How are you so certain that _I'm_ not guilty?"

She saw a flash and imagined the man was smiling widely.

"I am an excellent judge of character," he replied.

~0~

It was under the cover of darkness that Captain Edward Cullen and his crew made their advancement upon the _HMS Intrepid_, stealing along silently, not a word spoken lest their approach be overheard.

Cullen nodded at Whitlock, who in turn whispered a command to a mate at this left. Cullen winced at the sound of the anchor chain grating against the hull and prayed that the crash of the surf would muffle it.

He glanced at his men, all stripped down to their breeches and shirts, weapons strapped securely around their waists or across their shoulders.

No flintlocks. Only blades.

Without another word, he led the group to the gunwale, grabbing a dangling rope and lowering himself over the side. The others followed closely, and in mere moments, the men were swimming through the black waters toward the looming hulk of the _Intrepid. _Beyond lay the shore, and a few flickering lights indicating that not all in the village slept, even at the late hour.

It wouldn't matter. If the captain's plan was successful, they would be on and off the Crown ship without anyone on land or sea knowing they'd been there.

With a low grunt, he pulled himself up on the _Intrepid's _anchor chain and rested a moment, scanning the hull of the ship for the rope he'd seen through his spyglass earlier in the day. If luck was with them, it would not have been retrieved.

Cullen smiled. Luck was indeed with them.

Slipping into the water, he floated easily along the bobbing vessel, then kicking his feet to propel himself out of the water so he could grab the rope. It took a few attempts, but he finally gripped it firmly, pulling himself up the outside of the ship, his bare feet slipping slightly against the slimy hull. He paused when he reached the gunwale, peering over the edge uncertainly. He could make out a couple of slumped figures on the other side of the ship.

Sleeping. Cullen grimaced in disgust. Such a thing would never happen on his ship.

He pulled himself onto the deck silently, then slipped into the shadows, quickly lowering additional rope to his awaiting crew. In a matter of moments they stood next to him, dripping and tense with expectation.

Cullen nodded at McCarty, pointing to the two sleeping crewmen. With a mate at his side, the master rigger approached them, and Cullen knew in a moment they would be bound and gagged and no longer a threat.

"Find the girl," Cullen whispered to Whitlock, and the two parted, each taking a contingent to search the ship. Slipping his dagger from its sheath, Cullen approached a doorway, pressing his back flat against the wall before peeking around it and listening intently. Edging into the dark hallway, he waved his crewmen through to the left, while he went to the right. They moved noiseless in the darkness, and the captain smiled in satisfaction.

He made his way down the hallway, systemically pressing his ear to each door before opening it quietly and peering inside. Just as he was about to turn a corner, he froze at the sound of a low conversation.

Hidden in the shadows, Cullen edged around the corner to find two of Hunter's men standing guard before a wooden door, their bodies casting flickering shadows in the low light of a lantern. One of the men leaned forward, using a scrap of twisted linen to capture a bit of fire for his tobacco pipe, and the captain wrinkled his nose at the sweet-smoky scent as the leaves caught the spark.

"Do you think the boy was speaking the truth?" the other guard asked. "Should we have told the commodore about Cullen?"

The captain froze at the sound of his own name.

"Why do you insist on repeating the same question?" the first guard answered, blowing a stream of smoke into the air. "The boy was obviously lying. He knows nothing of One-Eyed Eddie that the commodore doesn't know already. He's a powder monkey or a cabin boy with no important knowledge."

He took another pull on his pipe. "Not to mention that the commodore is _entertaining_ this evening," he said with a grin. "And I'm sure he would not look kindly on any interruptions."

The other guard laughed. "Yes, did you see the chit he took into his chamber? Comely, but none to bright, I think."

A shuffle behind him drew Cullen's attention, and he looked back to find his two crewmen, Crowley and Jenks, coming his way. He held up a finger in warning, and they pressed against the wall, watching for his order.

Cullen watched the two guards intently, waiting for his opportunity. When they both turned to look in through the small window at the top of the door, he nodded to his men, and as one, they swept silently into the small space. Crowley clouted a guard on the back of his head with the hilt of his dagger and Jenks caught him as he slumped to the floor. Meanwhile, the captain slipped his arm around the neck of the second guard, his own blade pressed to the soft flesh of his neck. The man's pipe clattered to the floor, forgotten.

"Be silent now," Cullen warned in a low voice. "You wouldn't want my hand to slip."

He felt the shift of the man's Adam's apple as he swallowed fearfully, and smiled grimly in satisfaction.

"Unlock the door," he ordered, "and make not a sound."

The man fumbled for a ring of keys latched to his belt, finally inserting one into the lock with a shaking hand. Cullen reached around into the guard's inside pocket and withdrew a linen handkerchief, wadding it up and stuffing it unceremoniously into the guard's mouth. He shoved the man toward Crowley with a nod.

"Bind them both and be quick about it," he told him. "Make certain they won't be discovered for a while." He twirled his dagger in his hand once as he turned back to the door, and Jenks took up position at his flank, his own blade drawn.

Cullen swung the door open, squinting into the dark interior, then stepped inside carefully, scanning the room as Jenks did the same. A jangling sound caused him to freeze in his tracks, and he looked down to find he'd kicked a chain secured to the floor. His eyes tracked the chain to a gap between two stacks of crates and he glanced at Jenks, pressing a finger to his lips in warning. Jenks nodded, and they silently crept along the trail left by the metal links.

A sharp crack rang out, and an equally sharp pain shot through Cullen's skull, dazing him for a moment before he turned to find Isabella staring at him wide-eyed, holding a plank of wood over her head, apparently ready to hit him again. He staggered slightly, and Jenks sprang in front of him to block the second blow, grabbing a surprised Isabella and whirling her around until she was locked, her back to his chest, and his arms banding around hers in an iron grip. Her makeshift weapon clattered to the floor as she struggled against him, and he quickly shifted, covering her mouth with a palm when she opened her mouth to scream.

Cullen rubbed at his scalp, glaring at her in the dim light.

"I am at a loss for why you always feel it necessary to bash me on the head," he growled in a low voice.

Isabella began to respond, her voice muffled by Jenks hand.

"Be still, lass," Jenks warned. "I'll wager given yer current accommodations ye'll not want to be discovered by the commodore any more than we. I'll release ye if ye vow not to scream…or try to kill me captain again."

Isabella considered her options, then nodded once. Jenks released his grip only after kicking away the plank of wood. Isabella straightened her shirt with her shackled hands then turned a defiant gaze on the captain.

"Cullen," she said distastefully, "whatever are you doing here?"

He took a step closer, looming over her tiny frame. She fought the urge to step back and held her ground, glaring up at him.

Cullen's hot breath washed over her face, and she swallowed thickly, fighting not to allow her fear to show. He sensed it though, and reveled in it a bit.

"You did not think you could steal from me and leave me for dead, and I'd not come looking for you, did you?" he asked, his teeth bared and grinding. "Now, where is my cutlass?"

"Your cutlass?" she countered. "I believe you mean _my_ cutlass."

He took another step, their bodies almost touching. "Do not press me, wench," he growled. "I've half a mind to leave you chained at the commodore's mercy."

"The commodore will release me," she replied airily. "Once he realizes his mistake."

Cullen laughed. "The commodore doesn't make mistakes," he said. "A fact you will become vastly aware of once you're facing the hangman's noose."

Isabella gulped, the chains binding her wrists clinking as she trembled. Her emotions warred with each other – fear of Cullen, combined with a vile hatred of the man – along with a near desperation that he could be correct, that the commodore would not listen to reason.

Jacob had warned her as much.

"Fine," she said finally. "I'll go with you."

"And what makes you think I want you?" he scoffed in reply.

"You cannot leave me here!"

"Oh, I _cannot_?" He shook his head, shooting a mocking glance at Jenks, who smirked in response. "I believe I can, and I will…unless you tell me where my bloody cutlass is!" He struggled to keep his voice low, but the threat was evident, and Isabella shuddered slightly in response.

"The commodore took it," she replied.

"Obviously," Cullen said with a heavy sigh, "but did you see where he put it?"

She shrugged. "Ask one of my guards, if you haven't killed them, that is," she added with a sneer. "The tall one is the one who took it from me."

Cullen jerked his head toward the doorway and Jenks left the room to question the guard, returning a moment later with Crowley. Isabella glared at him mulishly in the interim, refusing to break the uncomfortable silence.

"It's in the commodore's quarters," Jenks said grimly. Cullen nodded, expecting the answer.

"Take the girl," he said gruffly. "But…leave the shackles in place."

"What?" Isabella gaped at him. "But…you can't!"

Cullen ignored her. "I'll go after the cutlass with Whitlock. Get the others off the ship and back to the _Arrow._"

"You must release me!" Isabella demanded.

Cullen sneered. "You do not give me orders, wench. And if you do not want to remain on board this vessel, you will silence your tongue!" He turned to Crowley. "Do not let her drown. I have some plans for her."

"Drown?" Isabella repeated weakly. "Am I supposed to _swim_ with my arms bound?"

"Do not worry," Cullen replied distractedly. "Crowley is an excellent swimmer and will keep your head above water…as long as you do not cause any trouble." He grinned at Crowley, who winked in response.

"You…you monster!" Isabella exclaimed.

Cullen shrugged. "Aye." He turned to leave as Crowley flipped through the guard's keys to release Isabella.

For her part, Isabella fumed, certain in the dim light of the storage room her eyes flamed with anger. Still, she kept her peace, turning to leave with the crewman for lack of a better option. At least on Cullen's ship she had a chance to fulfill her mission. Her mind whirred with the possibilities.

She could gain his trust…get close to the man, as much as the thought turned her stomach. And once she'd found the answers she was looking for, she could finally fulfill her mission and avenge her father's death. Lost in thought, she was almost out the door before she remembered the man imprisoned with her.

"Wait!" she exclaimed. Cullen turned back in annoyance, and she winced, remembering she was supposed to be quiet.

"What?" he snarled.

"You have to free Jacob."

"Who?"

"Jacob." She pointed toward a dark corner. "The commodore will have him killed if you leave him here."

Cullen approached the cell, squinting to make out the form of a man slumped on the floor.

"You there," he said, kicking the bars with the tip of his boot.

"He's been beaten," Isabella explained. "He needs help."

Cullen crouched down, peering through the bars. "Damnation," he breathed. "Is that Jacob Black?"

"You know him?" Isabella asked.

"Crowley, bring me those keys." He ignored the question, holding out his hand. "And for the love of God, get the wench out of here!"

Crowley tossed him the keys and left with Isabella, who thought better of making any further comment. Jenks approached, leaning against the bars.

"Billy's boy," he said in acknowledgement. "Haven't seen him since he was little more than a babe."

"Aye," Cullen agreed, unlocking the cell and approaching the man. He touched his shoulder gently. "Black," he muttered quietly, then shook him a little harder. "Black, wake up. We need to get you out of here."

Jacob blinked, still dazed with sleep. Then he sat up abruptly, his hand flying to his head as a low groan escaped his lips.

"What is it?" he asked. "Who's there?"

"Edward Cullen," the captain replied. "It appears you're in a bit of a tight spot, boy."

Jacob winced. "Cullen?" Startled, he sat up abruptly, eyes darting around in the darkness. "Where's Bella? What have you done with her?" he whispered.

"Bella?" Cullen repeated. "The wench is safe, on her way to my ship." He tried a few keys before managing to get the cell door unlocked. "You're welcome on board as well."

Jacob stood, swaying slightly on his feet, and Edward could feel the uncertainty rippling of him in waves.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked quietly.

The captain sighed. "Your father was a good man," he said, "a friend to me and many others."

Jacob stiffened. "I wouldn't know. I barely knew the man."

"Aye, well…" Cullen's words drifted off. He knew that Bootless Billy Black had a woman and a child somewhere in the islands. He also knew that the man loved the sea more than anything else. There were no words of defense to be offered. It was the way it was.

"Regardless, I owe him for many things," he said instead, "and it seems you're in need of my help. In fact, we could help each other."

"What do you mean?"

A thump overhead drew their attention, and the Captain lowered his voice, hissing quietly, "There's no time for this now. We need to get off this ship, but I must retrieve an item that was stolen from me first. Go with Jenks." He turned to leave, but Jacob's voice stopped him.

"No."

Edward turned to see the man bending through the low cell doorway, then stretching to his full height. He was taller than he'd seemed slumped on the floor of the cell, and broad through the shoulders – almost as big as McCarty. The dim light from the porthole gleamed off his dark skin, his teeth glinting slightly as he spoke.

"You'll need help," he said finally. "I'll go with you."

"It isn't necessary. You're in no condition—"

"I'm fine," he insisted, rolling his massive shoulders to emphasize the point. "I'll go with you."

Cullen nodded imperceptibly before sending Jenks away with a jerk of his head. He handed Jacob his spare dagger as they slipped into the dim hallway, finding no sign of the guards.

Crowley had done his job well.

Wordlessly, they made their way through the shadows, drifting around corners and into doorways like wraiths, all the while listening for the inevitable alarm they both knew would sound eventually.

They emerged upon the dark and silent deck, the wheel spinning aimlessly one way then the other as the ship glided along through the black depths. Crossing to a dim archway leading to what Cullen knew would be the commodore's personal quarters, he could barely make out the faint splashing of his crew swimming back toward the _Arrow._ He thought he heard a feminine screech of protest and smiled slightly at the sound.

Perhaps the bothersome Miss Swan might be a little more amenable from now on.

Somehow, he doubted that.

However, having the daughter of Charlie Swan in his possession might prove useful when it came to finding what he was looking for. After all, the cutlass was only part of the puzzle, and who knew how many more pieces Isabella's father had obtained before he met his death?

Edward aimed to find out.

He signaled to Jacob, and the two pressed their backs against the wall on opposite sides of the commodore's door. Edward listened carefully, finally leaning over to press his ear to the gleaming wood. Faint snores rumbled from within and he nodded at his companion, slowly turning the doorknob.

The door squeaked lightly as he opened it, and the two men froze in place as the snores stopped, interrupted by a snort and a cough and the ruffling of sheets as a body repositioned itself. Edward peered into the dark room to make out two forms in the bunk, one long shapely leg peeking out from under the sheets.

It appeared Hunter had some company this evening.

The snoring began again as the commodore relaxed into a deeper sleep, and Jacob gripped the dagger firmly, his eyes focused on the bed as Edward scanned the room. He grinned, spying a metallic glint on top of the desk against the far wall.

Apparently, the commodore had been too intent on his entertainment to appropriately stow away the spoils of the day. As Jacob kept watch, Edward quickly retrieved the cutlass, then paused as he spotted a leather pouch next to it.

Never one to turn away a bit of profit, he stuffed the pouch into his pocket, relishing the weight of the gold inside.

Cullen turned back to Jacob Black, and the two men made their way to the door, only to be stopped by a soft gasp breaking the silence. They turned in unison toward the bed, where the commodore's bedmate, a pale beauty with a tangle of red hair billowing around her head, sat upright and shocked, a hand clasped at her throat.

The captain put a finger to his lips, but knew as soon as she drew a deep breath that the motion was fruitless.

"Run," he told Jacob in a low voice, and the two took off down the hallway as an ear-piercing scream echoed off the walls behind them.

"Females," Edward muttered in frustration, as around him the ship came to life, the shouts of alert and loud curses mingling with slamming doors and the sounds of booted feet on worn wooden floors.

He swore that if he were caught and hanged because of Isabella Swan, his ghost would return and haunt her for the rest of her days.

The damned woman would be the death of him.

Of that, Captain Cullen was almost certain.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **If you're not aware of it, I do post a weekly teaser for this story every Monday at www (dot) fictionators (dot) com, so check it out!

See you next Tuesday!


	4. Chapter 4: Escape

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **Thank you so much for your reviews. Although I'm unable to reply to all of them, I really do appreciate hearing your thoughts. If you have a question that you really need answered, feel free to PM me, or hit me up on Twitter (Tkegl) and I'd be glad to chat.

Thanks to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her hard work with this, and to the lovely **KitsuShel** for prereading.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Opportunity is a fleeting commodity. One must seize it when it appears, for if one falters for but a moment, it is lost…<strong>_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 2 June, 1665**_

**Chapter 4: Escape**

"Now what?" Jacob asked as they emerged onto the deck, seeking escape as the crew came to life with rousing shouts and orders. A half-dozen men scrambled out of the doorway at the far end of the ship, tugging up breeches and checking their flintlocks. Behind him, he could hear the slam of a door, and the bellowing voice of the commodore.

Captain Cullen spared not a moment, realizing that acting quickly in the confusion, before they were spotted, was probably the most prudent action.

Not that he feared a fair fight, but two against a shipload? Even Edward was not that arrogant.

He raced to the edge of the deck, Jacob Black close on his heels. Eyeing the dangling rope, then the growing number of crewmen stumbling out from belowdecks, he realized there was no time to waste.

"We need to jump," he told Jacob, climbing onto the gunwale and strapping the cutlass across his chest. Jacob clambered up next to him, slipping his dagger between his teeth. With a nod, the two men glanced over their shoulders, then took a deep breath, leaping off the ship into the crashing waves. The cold water closed in over them, cutting off the chaos above as they kicked off and swam underwater, both men able-bodied and comfortable in the sea after years spent living on and around it.

They broke the surface a good distance from the _Intrepid_, treading water for a moment to catch their breath, and Jacob pulled the dagger from his teeth.

"So," he said, "do you do this a lot?"

Edward grinned. "Often enough."

Jacob laughed, biting down on the dagger again as they continued to swim toward the _Arrow_, the commodore's angered shouts carrying out over the water. Edward glanced back, the moonlight enough for him to make out the form of the man standing at the bow of the ship, his head thrown back as he bellowed one word.

"_Cullen_!" he shouted, and Edward knew this was not the end of it.

~0~

The _Black Arrow's_ sails billowed at full mast by the time Edward and Jacob clambered on board, the former bellowing orders that they evade the _Intrepid _at all costs, the latter taking in the surroundings of his father's former home with a somber yet persistent gaze. The instant the captain's boot touched down on the deck, the ship began to move, cutting through the waves with purpose as it picked up speed. The captain eyed the horizon through his spyglass, smiling as the Intrepid grew smaller in the distance, unable to keep up with the smaller and more streamlined _Arrow_. His ship's black sails would make it nearly invisible to the commodore, while the _Intrepid's _white ones gleamed brightly under the light of the moon. Cullen wrung water from his long hair with one hand as he regarded his new guest out of the corner of his eye.

Jacob Black's huge form melded with the shadows, but he was far from inconspicuous. Under feigned nonchalance, his intent gaze indeed missed nothing, and he scanned the deck with concern, breathing a sigh of relief only when he saw Bella coming toward him, apparently unharmed. He frowned, though, when he noticed her wrists still shackled together, her elbow held firmly by the Quartermaster.

"Why is she a prisoner?" he asked the captain, who responded with a distracted glance between barking orders at his first mate.

"Because she is a thief and a murderess," he responded through gritted teeth. "Well, _attempted_ murderess, at least," he clarified.

Bella apparently heard the comment as she neared them, because she quirked a brow. "Give me a chance, and I aim to rectify that situation," she said.

The captain glared at her. "Hence the shackles, wench." His eye narrowed on Crowley as he added, "Why isn't she contained?"

Crowley swallowed nervously. "She insisted on seeing you."

"Oh, she _insisted_? Well, then, by all means," he retorted sarcastically, waving a hand.

Bella bristled. "I needed to make certain you didn't leave Jacob behind."

Cullen ignored her, growling at Crowley instead. "She is not a _guest_. She is a _prisoner. _You'd do well to remember that." Crowley nodded, his eyes dropping to the toes of his boots as his fingers tightened on Bella's arm.

For her part, Bella turned all her attention on Jacob. She had to admit, he was taller than he'd appeared in the cell – in fact, larger all around. His thick black hair hung to his shoulders, dripping water from its tangled ends, and in the moonlight she could just make out a curving tattoo sweeping around the left side of his face. It was too dark to discern the details, but it definitely gave Bella pause, and she wondered if perhaps this man was more dangerous that she'd first thought.

He relieved her fears with a wide grin, teeth flashing in the moonlight.

Bella took a relieved breath. "It's good to see you're all right."

He tipped his head in an acknowledging nod. "And you, as well. I thank you for your help."

Edward snorted.

Jacob fought a smirk, turning to the captain. "And yours, of course."

Edward simply turned about, bellowing, "Man the capstan! Heave-ho lads! Hunter is on our stern, but the _Intrepid's_ no match for us." He looked through the spyglass again. "Whitlock!"

The first mate relayed the orders and hurried to the captain's side.

Cullen lowered his head to his friend. "Keep to open water until we round Arahna Point," he said. "We'll dart into the bay and out the other side before Hunter knows where we've gone."

Whitlock nodded; it was a ploy they'd used countless times before. "And then?" he asked.

"The Intrepid will not be able to maintain chase with civilians on board. They'll turn about soon enough to find port," Cullen replied. "We'll stay hidden for the moment. Send Jenks to the point to keep watch."

"Aye, Captain." The first mate hurried off to find Jenks and prepare him to go ashore at Arahna Point. The _Arrow _would circle around to retrieve him once he'd relayed the signal that the _Intrepid _had moved on.

He looked up to find Jacob and Isabella standing side-by-side at the rail, talking quietly as they watched the burst of activity around them. Crowley had disappeared, apparently finding duties more suited to his liking. Black said something in a low voice and Isabella laughed, the light sound carrying over the shouts of the crew.

Cullen frowned. He couldn't explain the itch of irritation he felt at the sight of the annoying Miss Swan so carefree, even while bound in chains. She should have been nervous, even fearful, given her situation. Instead, she smiled up at Jacob Black as if she hadn't a care in the world.

"Captain!" Whitlock drew his attention, and his wide eyes indicated it hadn't been the first time he'd tried to do so. "We're nearing the point."

Edward nodded. "Hard to port! Drop the mainsail and douse the lanterns! Steady, men…" He nodded at Jenks, who sat with one leg thrown over the gunwale. At the silent order, he lowered himself onto the rope ladder, and in a moment, Cullen heard the light splash of the man hitting the water.

"Swing the lead," he said quietly as the ship moved in the darkness, the light from the moon barely causing a reflection on the ship itself. A crewman lowered a lead weight off the side of the ship to measure the depth of the water, relaying his measurements every few minutes. The crew worked frantically, dropping the sails as Whitlock took the wheel, skillfully avoiding the shallow areas of the bay until they came to rest in a small inlet, hidden from the open water.

"Now what?" Isabella's quiet voice startled the captain, who was unaware that she had moved to his side. He turned to find her squinting toward the point, just barely able to make out the land above the rippling waves.

"We wait," he said gruffly. "Or I should say _we _wait. _You _will be taken belowdecks until I can deal with you properly."

Isabella opened her mouth to argue, but then slammed it closed, her eyes narrowing on him calculatingly.

"Why do you do that?" she asked instead.

"Do what?"

She turned to face him, waving a finger at his mouth, the shackles clinking lightly. "Your speech…your accent. It…_changes_."

Edward frowned. "I do not know what you're talking about."

"See?" she said victoriously. "_I do not know what you're talking about," _she mimicked. "One moment you sound like a regular ruffian – which you are – _Heave ho the jib_ and whatnot…"

"That doesn't make the least bit of sense," he muttered.

She continued as though she hadn't heard him. "Then the next, you sound almost like…a _gentleman_…all posh and proper."

The captain huffed. "That's ridiculous."

"I cannot quite put my finger on it…"

"Crowley!" Cullen barked, forgetting for a moment that the ship was in hiding, thanks to Isabella Swan. The wench was nothing but trouble, and he needed her out of his sight immediately. He glared at the Quartermaster as he ran to his side.

"Take Miss Swan belowdecks and lock her in," he said in a lower voice, holding up a finger when Bella opened her mouth to interrupt. "One of the empty rooms," he added. "Make sure there is nothing she might find useful as a weapon." He glared at her, then turned in dismissal, ignoring her sounds of protest as Crowley dragged her away.

Jacob Black eyed the captain carefully in the darkness. "Surely such a tiny thing is not a significant threat."

Edward scoffed, touching at the lump on his head absently. "You'd think not, wouldn't you?"

"You'll not…" Jacob cleared his throat, squaring his shoulders. "You'll not harm her, will you? I know I'm in your debt, but I'll not allow—"

"Miss Swan is my concern," the captain interrupted, rubbing his forehead as the beginnings of a headache pounded at his temples. "But no, I'll not harm her. I'm not a beast, after all, despite popular opinion."

Jacob smiled slightly. "All right, then. So what _are_ your plans for her?"

The captain turned scrutinizing eyes on the man. "Why such concern?"

Jacob shrugged. "She was…kind to me."

Edward huffed, opting for the simplest answer. "The wench stole from me. She tried to _kill_ me. I simply mean to make her pay a bit.

"As for you, Jacob Black, if you're in need of a ship, I could be in need of your services."

Jacob blinked. "What kind of services?"

"You know these islands better than anyone," he said in a low voice. "I'm in need of a guide."

"Guide to what?"

Cullen shrugged. "You'll know that when the time is right. But be assured, a handsome reward awaits us, and as a member of my crew, you'd be guaranteed your fair share.

"As for now, you're welcome on board, but I'll need to know your loyalty lies with me, and not the wench."

Jacob considered that for a moment. The promise of treasure was a tempting one. "But you said you'll not harm her?"

Cullen snarled slightly. "I do not like to repeat myself, Black."

He held out a hand. "All right, then. You have a guide, Captain."

Cullen shook his hand, his mouth splitting in a grin. "Welcome to the _Arrow_."

~0~

Bella fumed as she stumbled behind the Quartermaster into the dim hallway leading below the deck of the ship.

"Really…this isn't necessary…" she managed through gritted teeth.

"You heard the captain," he replied shortly, stopping before a door and unlocking it quickly. He pulled her inside, scanning the room to ensure it was empty of all possible weapons. Satisfied, he left the room without another word, locking it behind him.

Giving in to her fury, Bella followed him, pounding on the door with her shackled fists.

"Let me out of here!" she shouted. "Hello?" She kicked the door, wincing at the pain in her foot, and let out a frustrated shriek.

"I really _hate_ pirates!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping somehow that the words would carry to the target of her current frustration.

One-Eyed Eddie Cullen. The bastard.

She kicked the door one more time for emphasis, then turned to examine her newest prison. The room was empty, save a couple of large casks and a pile of discarded canvases in the corner. She had to admit to a bit of disappointment at the lack of a chair or table…something she could dismantle and possibly use to smack One-Eyed Eddie on the head.

Again.

She sighed. Bella felt like a failure. She'd set out to kill Cullen, but the fact was, she knew she couldn't. She just wasn't a murderer. The sight of the blood flowing from his head – even now, it sent a squeamish twist through her stomach.

No, she couldn't kill him, as much as she'd like to. Bella hoped her father wouldn't be too disappointed in her lack of mettle.

Her only alternative was to try and make Cullen pay in another way – perhaps find a way to turn him over to Commodore Hunter and gather enough evidence to see him imprisoned for the rest of his natural life.

Or hanged. Bella shivered at the thought but did not waver in her resolve.

And once she presented herself to the commodore in her own clothes, rather than the rags of a cabin boy, and handed him One-Eyed Eddie on a silver platter…

Well, Commodore Hunter would have no alternative but to believe her tale and dismiss all charges against her.

Yes. The situation definitely called for a new plan.

An _improved_ plan.

Bella was nothing if not adaptable. She would gain Cullen's trust, and when the time was right, he would pay.

Bella sighed as her stomach growled. In the meantime, she was stuck in a windowless room in wet clothes with nothing to eat.

Perfect.

She walked over to the pile of canvases - sails, she realized - picking up an edge between two fingers to peek underneath. Seeing no evidence of vermin or something equally distasteful, she sat down on the pile, pulling a corner over her shoulders as a chill set in.

The sound of a key in the lock startled her, and Bella realized she was lying down and must have drifted off. She had no idea how long she'd been in the room, or what time of day it was. Her clothes were damp but no longer dripping, her stomach more vehement in its protestations, suggesting it had been at least a couple of hours since she'd been locked up. She stood quickly, wincing as the shackles chafed at her tender wrists.

She squinted in the darkness to see the captain's first mate come through the door.

Whitlock, she remembered.

"Captain wants to see you," he muttered quietly, waving her forward.

Her chin stuck out stubbornly, but she didn't refuse the command, not wishing to spend any more time in the tiny room.

Not to mention the fact that if she were to gain the captain's trust, she first needed to gain access to the captain.

So, she brushed past Whitlock airily, blinking as she emerged into the brighter hallway. She could make out light coming from the stairway leading to the deck, and realized the sun was up, the ship rocking slightly, obviously under sail.

"What's happening?" she asked, unable to resist her curiosity.

Whitlock frowned. "The captain will tell you, if he finds it necessary."

Bella bit her lip. "You don't like me much, do you?"

Whitlock chuckled humorlessly. "You lied…tried to kill my captain…took a chunk out of my arm, and laid me low, kicking me in the ballocks…"

Bella winced.

"So, no," he continued, "I'd say you're not my favorite person."

"Sorry about that."

Whitlock grunted, then added after a moment, "He didn't do it, you know. Kill your father."

Bella said nothing, not surprised that the first mate would defend his captain. She felt his eyes on her, but after a moment, he turned away and they emerged on the deck, his arm closing around her elbow as he led her across to the captain's quarters.

Bella squinted in the bright sunshine, scanning the horizon but seeing nothing more than endless rippling waves. The sails billowed overhead as the ship clipped along, and she stumbled slightly as the deck rolled.

Whitlock smirked. "Still need to find your sea legs, it appears."

A smart retort died on her lips as the hair on the back of her neck stood on end – a shiver of awareness that she was being watched. She scanned the deck just before passing through the doorway to the captain's quarters, her eyes finally landing on the blackened, cocky grin of the Master Gunner. Newton's beady eyes passed over her form slowly before coming to rest on her face, and he winked, spitting a slimy glob out of the corner of his mouth and wiping the excess from his chin with the back of his hand. Bella shivered.

"What's the matter?" Whitlock asked, tugging on her arm. She hadn't realized she'd stopped.

Bella turned her eyes from Newton, but knew instinctively he hadn't done the same. "Nothing," she replied, her voice cracking slightly. "I'm all right."

The first mate just shrugged and dropped her arm as they reached the captain's door. He knocked quickly but didn't wait for a response before opening it, obviously aware that the captain was waiting for them. Whitlock stood back, extending his arm toward the door with a gallant half-bow, and Bella rolled her eyes at the gesture. She stalked into the captain's quarters, her gaze landing on him where he sat sprawled behind his desk, her father's cutlass balanced atop his palms.

He ignored her, running his hand along the cool metal, his eyes following the movement. He picked up a cloth, rubbing it on the gleaming blade until it shone. His long fingers wrapped around the hilt, testing the sword's weight as he stood, sweeping it through the air in a large arc.

Bella jumped. The captain smirked slightly but still did not look at her. Instead, he addressed his first mate.

"Release her."

Whitlock reached for a set of keys in his pocket, quickly unshackling Bella's wrists and nodding once at the captain before leaving the room, the door shutting quietly behind him.

All the while Cullen continued to play with the sword – _her_ sword - brandishing it gleefully as Bella looked on in anger.

"Aren't you afraid I'm going to attack you?" she said finally.

The captain's eyes finally flicked her way briefly. "Not particularly."

She stiffened, annoyed that he would dismiss her so easily. She rubbed at her tender wrists, but quickly crossed her arms over her chest when she saw Cullen notice the movement.

She didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

Bella waited, a low tap-tapping echoing through the room. The captain turned toward her, his eyebrow arched as his gaze dropped to her feet.

Or rather, her foot. Her tapping foot. She froze, a blush rising over her cheeks. The man made her nervous, but the last thing she wanted was for him to know that.

"So," she said haughtily. "Your errand boy said you wished to speak with me."

"Aye."

She huffed at his infuriatingly glib reply. He continued to play with his sword and she planted her fists on her hips. "Well?"

He sheathed the cutlass in a smooth stroke, setting it on his desk before propping his hip on the edge. "Well, what?"

Bella fought the urge to throw something else at his head. "What did you wish to speak with me about?" she asked through gritted teeth.

He considered her for a moment. "It appears you will be my guest for a while," he said.

"Guest?" She rubbed absently at her wrists again. "You have a strange way of treating guests."

The captain chuckled. "Yes, well. You can hardly fault me for being cautious. You did try to kill me."

Bella just shrugged.

"The question is," he continued, "will you be trying again?" He watched her carefully, his green eye glittering and unblinking.

Bella sighed. "No," she replied wistfully. "I've come to realize I'm not really the murdering type." She spared him a pointed look, obviously emphasizing that he was – in fact – _exactly_ that type.

The captain smirked and walked across the room, throwing open a large chest and sifting through its contents. "I know you don't believe that I didn't kill your father," he said. "But I can prove it to you."

Despite herself, Bella found herself asking, "How?"

He straightened, a mass of fabric in his hand. "Because I know who did." He tossed the fabric her way, and she caught it out of reflex, only absently identifying it as a gown.

"It might be a bit large, but it's better than nothing," Cullen said. "I can't have you parading about my ship in breeches. It's hardly proper." He grinned wolfishly, and Bella doubted the man was really concerned with propriety.

"Who did it?" Bella asked quietly.

To his credit, Cullen did not try to pretend he didn't know what she was asking. "I can take you to him," he said instead. "I'm searching for the man myself. I have my own score to settle." His cheek twitched as he clenched his teeth, and Bella wondered what the captain had lost to this mysterious individual.

She shook off a brief twinge of empathy, setting her chin. "Why would you do that?"

He motioned toward the chest. "There are some other items you might need in here. I had water brought up so you could wash. Not a full bath, mind you, no need for such frivolity, but…" He dismissed her with a wave toward the opposite side of the room and returned to his desk, huddling over a leather-bound book.

Bella noticed a silk-covered screen set up on the far wall and approached the chest, the idea of clean skin and clothes winning out over curiosity and vengeance, at least for the moment. She tucked the gown under her arm, digging through the contents until she found some underclothes and stockings, and even a pair of shoes that looked about her size.

"Where did you get all of this?" she asked without thinking. When he didn't respond, she glanced at him to find him regarding her with a slight smirk on his face.

Right.

_Pirate._

"Never mind," she muttered, clutching the bundle of clothes to her chest as she made her way toward the screen and ignored the slight chuckle following her along the way.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **My computer crashed over the weekend, which is why I missed posting a Fictionators tease this week. I'll get one on there next Monday, though. You can find it at www (dot) fictionators (dot) com.

Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5: Battle Lines

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

And thanks to all of you who are reading and reviewing. I so appreciate your support!

* * *

><p><em><strong>I sometimes question the wisdom of recording my thoughts and discoveries in this book, for I am quickly learning that protecting my secrets is a dangerous and difficult proposition. But as often as I fear my plans being discovered, I also realize that, should something happen to my person, this journal would be the only remaining evidence of my endeavors.<strong>_

_**It is, in essence, my life.**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 2 June, 1665**_

**Chapter 5: Battle Lines**

Bella set her little bundle of clothes on a small bench behind the screen and dipped her hand into the tub of water waiting for her.

Warm.

She fought a contented sigh, but allowed a smile to grace her lips since Cullen couldn't see her.

Peeking through a gap in the screen, she found the captain focused once again on the book on his desk. With only a brief hesitation, she pulled her shirt off and untied the rags binding her breasts, rubbing them slightly in relief. She loosened the leather thong tying up her hair and removed the pendant her father gave her, setting it carefully on a little table.

Dipping her hands in the warm water, Bella ran it over her arms and neck, and wished the tub was big enough for her to just climb in. A sliver of soap sat on a low table, and she sniffed it skeptically, surprised at the light floral scent that greeted her. With another glance through the screen, she undressed completely, washing her body, and then her hair as well as she could in the warm water.

It was heavenly.

Bella dried off with a rough towel that had also been left for her on the table, squeezing the excess water from her hair with the cloth. A sound from the other side of the room snapped her eyes back to the gap in the screen, only to once again meet the top of Cullen's head. She watched him for a moment, the towel clutched to her bare chest.

Her eyes narrowed, wondering if he'd noticed the same gap.

She wouldn't put it past him. The bastard.

Stepping closer to the wall and out of range of the infamous gap, Bella dressed quickly, running her fingers through her damp hair to remove the tangles. She smoothed the skirt of the cream and brown gown, smiling at the feel of the soft fabric, then pulled her pendant over her head, tucking it into the bodice.

It was nice to feel like a woman again, even if the gown was a little too big and gaped slightly around her less than ample bosom. Bella frowned, tugging at the bodice as she emerged from behind the screen. She looked up to find Cullen's eyes focused on her actions. His eyes lingered for a moment, his brow creased in concentration before returning to his book.

"The water will need to be removed," he said gruffly.

Bella stood silently in confusion for a moment. Well, of course the water would need to be removed. She was at a loss, however, for why the captain would feel the need to voice such an obvious fact.

He glanced up at her again. "You can dump it over the side," he said slowly, as if addressing a small child.

Bella gaped. "You can't be serious! You expect me to haul that tub up to the deck?"

Cullen stood abruptly, closing the book with a thwack, and circling the desk to the still-open chest.

"Everyone on my ship pulls his own weight," he muttered, fumbling through the chest and looking for something. "I am still in need of a cabin boy, and you are familiar with the position."

"You can't seriously expect-"

Cullen continued as though he hadn't heard her. "Not to mention the fact that it will give me an opportunity to monitor your activities and ensure you stay out of trouble."

"Trouble? The only trouble around here-"

"Unless," he interrupted, raising his gaze to her in challenge, "you'd prefer to spend your days locked up in the hold?"

Bella clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to look away. She fought to remember her mission…her new, _improved_ mission. She needed to stay close to the captain, and what better way than as his personal errand boy?

Errr…girl.

So, Bella swallowed her pride and turned on her heel, her spine straight as she tried not to stomp back over to the water tub. Grabbing one of the handles, she dragged it across the wooden floor, stopping every other step to keep the cooling water from sloshing over the sides. Irritated, she straightened, her hands on her hips as she glared at the now-hated washtub. She would never be able to carry the thing. Glancing around the room, she spied a bucket behind the screen – most likely what was used the fill the tub – and she grabbed it, dipping out some of the water before turning toward the door.

Cullen stood watching her, his lips quirked in amusement.

"Excuse me," she said haughtily, blowing back a strand of hair dangling across her face.

The captain stepped back with a nod, but just as she started to pass him, he held up a hand.

"Take this," he grumbled. Bella realized he was clutching a handful of cream-colored lace in his beringed fingers. She looked up at him, confused, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. Or rather, his gaze was trained…_below_ her eyes.

Bella cleared her throat and the captain's eye snapped up. If she expected chagrin at being caught ogling her chest, she was sadly mistaken. The captain simply raised his eyebrow and pressed the lace into her free hand.

"Tuck it into your bodice," he said, turning abruptly and stalking back behind his desk. "That dress is…indecent."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I cannot have you parading about my ship with your flesh on display," he grumbled, collapsing into his chair. "My men will be distracted, and I cannot afford to have them distracted."

Bella flushed, setting down the bucket and quickly tucking the scrap of lace into her neckline. Despite her embarrassment, she noticed the captain's accent had changed again, the vowels rounding, the consonants more crisp. "You're doing it again," she said.

"Doing what?"

"Speaking like a gentleman."

Cullen's gaze slowly rose from the book on his desk, a pool of green, dark and dangerous. "Believe me, Miss Swan, I am no gentleman."

Bella gaped for a moment, then snapped her mouth shut, picking up the bucket and leaving the room without another word. She took a bit of satisfaction in slamming the door behind her.

~0~

Captain Cullen watched her go, his eye widening slightly at the vehemence with which she shut the door. The girl was stronger than she looked.

He smiled. That was good. She would need to be strong for what he had planned.

He'd almost backed down on his little plan to make the wench pay. When he'd looked up and caught a glimpse of pale, creamy flesh through a gap in the silk screen across the room…

Well, for a moment, revenge was the last thing on his mind.

Thankfully, it only took the woman opening her mouth to extinguish any such thoughts. He couldn't afford to be distracted in his mission, even by a soft body.

Edward frowned as she re-entered his quarters, sweeping over to scoop up another bucket of water. It sloshed over the side of the tub, and Edward purposely looked down at the journal he was studying before saying crisply, "There are linens in the corner to wipe that up."

He fought a chuckle at her irritated gasp and stomping feet, only daring a glance up when he heard the rustle of fabric on the far side of the room. Isabella dropped a cloth onto the spilled water, swishing it around absently with the toe of her slipper. He forced a frown of concentration on his face.

"Once you're finished with the tub, I've some breeches in need of mending." He licked a finger and turned a page, only to be brought out of his nonchalant act by the cold smack of a wet cloth against the side of his head. He blinked in surprise, looking down at the rag now dripping on his desk, then up at a rather satisfied Isabella.

"You just...did you just throw a wet rag at me?" he sputtered.

Isabella just smirked, picking up her bucket of water. Edward shot to his feet, his fingers clutching the damp linen as he waved it at her. "You'd be wise to remember your place, Miss Swan," he warned, rounding his desk to loom over her.

She dropped the bucket unceremoniously, more water sloshing out onto the gleaming floor and onto his boots. "My place?" she snapped. "How dare you!"

"How dare I?" he spat. "Need I remind you that you are on my ship at my pleasure? And in my quarters for your own protection?"

"I don't need your protection!"

"No?" he snarled mockingly, with a pointed glance at her bosom. "You're on a ship of more than a hundred men, Miss Swan, many of whom have been without female companionship for a good long while. How long do you think you'd last on your own? Newton's already drooling on his shoes each time you walk by. Do you think you'll be able to hold him off if he finds you alone in some isolated corridor one dark night?"

Despite her anger, Isabella blanched at the thought.

"And he's not the only one," Edward continued, stepping even closer until his hot breath washed over her face. "Not all of my men are discerning when it comes to women, Miss Swan. They'll take what's available, whether or not the lady in question is a willing participant."

"I can handle myself," she said with a bravado she didn't truly feel. "I can wield a dagger...shoot a pistol."

"And I can put you in the brig," Edward retorted. "I need my men - all of my men - and I'll not risk losing one for your foolish notions of independence!"

"Foolish!" Isabella stammered.

"Yes, foolish!" Edward leaned in further, only belatedly realizing Isabella's breasts brushed his chest with every inhale. He ignored an irrational surge of lust and refused to step away and risk losing his advantage, focusing instead on the task at hand. "You have two choices, Miss Swan. You can stay here, do your part, and find out what really happened to your father. Or you can spend the rest of the voyage contained below, and perhaps –" He held up a finger as she opened her mouth to interrupt. "_Perhaps_ once my mission is complete I'll leave you on some isolated island to find your way home. If I remember, that is."

He glared at her, his green eye piercing and unblinking. She glared back for a moment, but Edward knew when she drew a deep breath, her chest brushing his again enticingly – not that he noticed – that he'd won.

"What do you mean, 'do my part?'" she asked grudgingly, stepping back in defeat.

"Everyone on my ship pulls his weight – or _her_ weight as the case may be," Edward replied, dropping the damp cloth onto the puddle on the floor. "That includes you, Miss Swan."

"What do you expect me to do?"

Edward took a step and turned, leaning back against his desk. "What you intended all along, I think," he said. "You'll be my cabin boy, fetch my food, keep my cabin tidy, that sort of thing...whatever needs doing."

Isabella flushed, and Edward knew she didn't like that idea very much.

"I'll need to keep an eye on you, of course," he continued, enjoying her discomfort immensely. "So, you'll need to stay close to me at all times."

She looked up at him, eyes flashing. "How close?" Her eyes darted to Edward's bed, but she tried to cover up the instinctive movement by crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him defiantly.

Edward smirked. "Rest assured, Miss Swan, I have no interest in despoiling your person," he said. "You'll sleep on the cot in the corner." Isabella followed his pointing finger to a rather uncomfortable-looking pile of blankets resting on a mattress of woven rope.

"However," he continued, "it would be to your best interest to allow the crew to think what they may about our living arrangements." He took a seat at the desk again, ruffling through some papers. "It would probably be wise to let them believe you're my woman."

"Your...your _woman_?" Isabella sputtered indignantly. "Why in the world would I do that?"

He looked up at her blankly. "Because then none of them would dare touch you, of course."

"I can't believe this," Isabella muttered, collapsing into a chair, her face falling into her hands. "What am I doing?"

Despite himself, Edward felt a bit of pity for the wench. "You're seeking the truth about who killed your father," he said quietly. "Unless you'd rather give up this nonsense altogether?"

Isabella straightened. "It's not nonsense," she said with a sniff. "And I'm still not convinced _you _weren't responsible."

Edward laughed slightly. "Why are you so convinced? Surely, I couldn't be the only one with a possible grudge against Charlie?"

"My investigator says it was you."

"Your investigator was mistaken."

"And you can prove that?" Isabella looked him square in the eye, as if trying to gauge his honesty.

"I can," he said, meeting her gaze. "When I find the man I'm looking for, you will have your proof."

"Why don't you just tell me who it is, and I'll be on my way?" she suggested.

Edward laughed. "Oh, no. I know better than that. The last thing I need is you stepping into the middle of things and ruining my plans."

"You just don't want me to get to him first."

"Well, there's very little chance of that," he countered. "But I definitely don't need you getting in the way. No, I will find him, and when I do, you will get the answers you seek."

"I don't need answers," she said quietly. "I need vengeance."

Edward nodded slightly. "As do I," he said. "It seems we have allied purposes, Miss Swan, at least for the moment."

Isabella's eyes narrowed, but she hesitated only briefly. "For the moment," she relented.

"Good, then we're agreed," Edward said, turning back to his book. "Now take care of that tub, and see to my supper."

He ignored the indignant huff that preceded Isabella following his orders.

~0~

The man was insufferable.

Bella dumped the last of the bathwater over the side of the ship and dropped the empty bucket onto the deck with a thud, wiping her hands on the toweling she'd tied over her skirts.

"Mending his breeches indeed," she muttered, gazing unseeingly at the vast gray sea, her thoughts a tumultuous blend of fury and confusion. She still didn't believe Cullen when he proclaimed his innocence. Well, not entirely, at least.

But she'd begun to doubt. And she'd come to understand that doubt caused problems.

If Cullen was telling the truth – and the "if" was loud and unwieldy – she would never forgive herself taking vengeance out on him. Not because of _him_, really. The fact was, Cullen was guilty of a good many crimes, and even if he was innocent of her father's murder, she had no qualms about him having to pay for the others.

But to let the guilty man go unpunished? _That_ would be the unforgivable sin.

Bella couldn't let that happen.

So, even if it meant a temporary truce with the scoundrel that was One-Eyed Eddie Cullen – even if it meant serving him as his cabin boy and suffering his impudent orders and insulting innuendo – she would do what was necessary.

"I can do it," she said half to herself, picking up the bucket and squaring her shoulders.

"I've no doubt you can, lass," a nasal voice, thick with mockery drawled behind her.

Bella swung around, the empty bucket dangling from her fingertips as her free hand flew to her chest in surprise. Newton stood before her, grinning widely, his eyes not leaving hers as he spat onto the deck. A drip of black spittle hung from his lips, and he licked at it with a chuckle at Bella's look of distaste.

"Mighty prim and proper now, aren't ya?" he said, eyes raking down her form slowly and making Bella's skin crawl. "Put ye in a gown and suddenly ye think yer a lady." He took a step closer, running a finger along the fabric Edward had tucked into her bodice. "But I'll not be forgettin' ye running around in breeches, yer assets on display fer all to see."

She slapped his hand away, but he only leered at her, shaking back a greasy lank of hair. "We both know what's beneath that gown, don't we?" he rasped. Bella glanced frantically around her, but Newton had her cornered between a large crate and a dinghy, out of sight unless someone happened to walk right by them.

"I got a wee taste before, but I do believe I'd like a little more," he said through his teeth, grabbing her upper arms in a bruising grip.

"Let me go!" Bella shrieked, thrashing about and lifting her knee to kick him. Unfortunately, her long skirts thwarted her attempt, and Newton only laughed, sour breath and spittle hitting Bella's face.

"Now, don't be like that," he wheedled, pressing her against the deck rail, his hard body allaying any further attempts at kicking. "Ye can enjoy it, if ye like." He wrapped an arm around her back, pinning one of her arms against her side and gripping the other tightly. Reaching up with his other hand, he took her chin roughly in his fingers. Bella fought his hold, her stomach roiling at the scent of his breath mingled with body odor, and she did the only thing she could think of. Arching backward, she gathered her strength and thrust her head forward with all her might, her forehead meeting Newton's nose with a jarring crack.

He released her immediately, an agonized groan escaping his lips as his fingers cradled his now-bleeding nose. Ignoring the pain in her forehead, and adrenaline forcing back a wave of dizziness, Bella swung the empty bucket at Newton's head with both hands, the satisfying thwack and resulting thud as Newton hit the deck making her grimace in satisfaction. She stood for a moment, trembling, the bucket rattling in her hands as Newton rolled around in pain, blood gushing from his nose as he cursed her rather colorfully. Bella resisted the urge to kick him, half worried she might trip in the attempt, and instead stepped around him quickly, only to come face to face with Jasper Whitlock...and Master Rigger McCarty...and Jacob...and behind them about a dozen more men watching Newton writhe, with shock written all over their faces.

Bella sniffed, wondering where they'd all been when Newton was manhandling her.

"What did you do?" Whitlock asked, wide eyes drifting from Newton to her.

Bella lifted her chin stubbornly. "The reprobate would not take 'no' for an answer."

"Reprobate?" Whitlock repeated, shooting a questioning glance at McCarty, who just shrugged in response.

Bella rolled her eyes. "Regardless, rest assured, he deserved it," she said haughtily, stepping around Newton and intending to continue toward the Captain's quarters. She stopped short, though, at the rather intense and hungry looks pointed her way from several of the men.

Or rather, pointed toward her bosom.

Her fingers fluttered up nervously, and she realized in the scuffle she had lost the bit of lace tucked into her bodice. She didn't need to look down to know the front of her gown gaped a bit, presenting a clear view of her bosom. She straightened her shoulders, gripping the extra fabric in her tight fist before shoving through the crowd to head belowdecks.

Of course, Captain Cullen stood leaning against the arched doorway, eyebrow raised in amusement. Bella stalked over to him, stopping only when she realized there was not enough room to squeeze past him.

"I told you," he said quietly, picking at his fingernails with the point of his dagger.

"And I told you," she hissed back, "I could handle the situation."

"This time," he retorted, fixing her with a pointed glare. "What happens if Newton isn't so careless next time? Or one of the others? Or perhaps more than one at a time?"

Bella gasped, face flushing at the implication. "No!"

"Oh, yes, Miss Swan," he murmured, leaning in a bit in what Bella was sure was an attempt to intimidate her.

It was working.

"I told you, my men take what they want," he said simply.

"But," she stammered, "surely you wouldn't let them..."

"Of course not, not intentionally, at least," he said quickly. "But I can hardly be everywhere at once, can I? I do have a ship to run, after all." He went back to picking at his fingernails, annoyingly relaxed despite Bella's agitation. She gripped the empty bucket tightly, considering a vague desire to repeat her actions and crack Cullen against the head with it as well. She hated the fact that she knew he was right. She'd been lucky enough to catch Newton off guard, but it was not a large ship – not large enough, at least – and if he got another opportunity to accost her, she wasn't certain she'd be able to fight him off.

Nervously, she glanced over her shoulder at the crew, all watching in rapt fascination, and some with undisguised lust.

She turned back to Edward. "All right. What do I need to do?" she hissed. "Make some sort of announcement?"

Edward grinned, sliding his dagger back into its sheath. "Oh, I don't believe that will be necessary."

And with no further warning, he lunged forward, capturing Bella in his arms. She gasped, clinging to his shoulders as he spun her, bending her slightly backwards over his arm, his mouth hovering a hairsbreadth from hers.

"What are you doing?" she snarled through gritted teeth, forcing down a rush of heat she didn't want to consider.

Edward winked. "Laying claim," he said, just before he kissed her thoroughly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Don't forget to check The Fictionators on Monday for a tease of Chapter 6 - www (dot) fictionators (dot) com.**

**See you Tuesday!**


	6. Chapter 6: The Key

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N**: As always, thank to my wonderful beta** tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel** for pre-reading.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Today, I begin a new life in a New World. It is difficult to leave behind London, the home of my childhood. Yet, the anticipation of what lies ahead compels me.<strong>_

_**I stand on deck, the salt air bracing, and as I watch England grow smaller I the distance, I feel a strange sense of peace.**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 9 July, 1665**_

**Chapter 6: The Key**

Perhaps he was overdoing it, but Edward figured if a man needed to make a point, he may as well make it soundly. And after what he'd just witnessed, he believed the point definitely needed to be made.

He'd emerged onto the deck, automatically searching for Bella but not spotting her at first. It was only when he heard the loud crash and saw the bastard, Newton, collapse onto the deck, clutching at his nose, that he realized what had been going on. The rest of the crew had apparently been unaware as well, all gathering to see what the commotion was about.

Hot anger surged through Edward, and with it came an overwhelming urge to rip his Master Gunner limb from limb. But when Isabella stepped around Newton's flailing body, flushed but unharmed and her head held high, his fury was quickly replaced by a resigned appreciation.

Blast, the woman was a pain in the arse, but even he had to admit she was a formidable wench.

So he'd forced a casual air, and proceeded to send an important message to every man on board his ship. It was his duty, after all. As captain, he felt responsible for the safety of each member of his crew.

Still, Edward readily conceded that kissing Isabella Swan wasn't quite as distasteful as he'd imagined it would be.

She was soft – surprisingly so, considering her stiff demeanor – her body forming around his in a rather distracting way. She gasped in outrage when he first touched his lips to hers, her fingers gripping at his shoulders to keep her balance. She struggled slightly, but then...

Then...

Then she softened even further, a quiet sound forming in the back of her throat as Edward's hands clutched at the back of her scalp and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Her lips parted, breath mingling with his, and Edward felt a shot of heat plunge straight to his groin. He snarled under his breath, tongue dipping out to taste her as his arm tightened around her waist.

Suddenly she stiffened, fingers clawing at his shoulders, and she began to struggle in earnest.

Edward snapped back into a semblance of control and pulled away, drawing Bella up to stand on her feet. She swayed a bit, and Edward fought back a smirk, holding her shoulders gently until he was certain she wasn't going to swoon.

Instead, her eyes narrowed, and she flounced past him, heading down the hall toward his quarters. Edward couldn't resist smacking her backside, grinning back at her unrepentantly as she flushed, glaring viciously at him, only to redden further at the boisterous catcalls coming from the crew.

He turned to Jasper, keeping his grin in place. "Ten lashes for Newton," he said in a low, deadly voice. "Make certain the men witness it, but the wench does not."

The first mate nodded as Edward turned back to the crew.

"As you were," he shouted with a wink before turning to follow Bella into the dim corridor. He winced when he heard a door slam ahead of him, and tried not to laugh when he entered his cabin to find her pacing angrily. She crossed to him, chest heaving in her ill-fitting gown.

Not that Edward noticed.

"Well, I think-" he began, but he never got to finish his thought, because Bella reared back and slapped him across the face. Hard.

"You..." she sputtered. "You lecherous rake!"

"Rake?" Edward rubbed at his cheek. "You can hardly blame me for trying to protect you."

"That wasn't about protection!" she spat back. "That was you taking liberties!"

"As if you didn't enjoy it," he sneered. Bella gasped, raising her arm to slap him again, but he was quicker this time, catching her wrist before she made contact. "I believe once can be excused," he said quietly, threat oozing with every syllable. "Female hysteria and all that..."

"Hysteria?" She scoffed, struggling to rip her wrist from his grip. "Hardly. More like well-founded outrage," she corrected. "To manhandle me like a common strumpet..."

At that, Edward tugged her closer, gritting his teeth in an unpleasant smile. "A common strumpet would know how to kiss," he pointed out, purposely goading her.

"Well...I never!"

"Exactly my point."

Bella swung out with her other hand, but Edward caught that as well, eye narrowing in frustration. "Would you please stop trying to hit me?"

"Would _you_ please stop doing things that make me want to?"

Edward couldn't hold back a laugh. "Miss Swan, calm down...please," he said. "If you'd allow me to explain..."

Bella laughed humorlessly. "As if you could." She frowned, but her movements stilled.

"If I release you, do you promise not to slap me again?" He eyed her carefully, only relaxing his grip after her curt nod. He stepped back, holding his hands out, just in case she changed her mind.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to slap you," she said. "Goodness, for a pirate, you're awfully skittish."

"Well, you can hardly blame me," he retorted. "You take every opportunity to brain me."

She snorted. "As if you had one."

"Tut tut, Miss Swan," he said, rounding his desk to sit in his chair. "Some might think you protest too much."

"And what in the world is _that_ supposed to mean?"

He shrugged, tapping a finger on his lips. "Just that there was a moment there when you didn't seem to be protesting at all."

"What?" Bella gaped, her eyes darting around as she scrabbled for words. "It was…my head. I was still dizzy from hitting Newton. And…you just...took me by surprise. I didn't expect you to be so...so..."

"Delicious?" he offered smugly.

She glared. "Forward," she corrected.

"I had to make it believable for the crew."

"And why exactly would you need to use your _tongue_ for that? It wasn't as if they could see inside my mouth!"

Edward ignored the heat roaring up at the memory of her mouth...her tongue...the feel of her warm body pressed against his.

"They have seen me with other women before," he replied, absently noting a twitch of her jaw at that comment.

_Interesting._

"They would have noticed if I held back with you," he added.

Her fight deflated. "Well, you could have warned me," she said begrudgingly. "It would have been nice to have been prepared."

"Oh, come now, Miss Swan," he said, leaning back in his chair with a grin. "Where would be the fun in that?"

"You're a very irritating man, Captain."

"So I've been told."

"Well," Bella said loftily, brushing at her skirts as she tried to collect herself. "To avoid such...distasteful displays again, I think it best we adopt a few guidelines."

Edward smirked. He had to admit he enjoyed battling wits with Isabella Swan. The woman was infuriating, but definitely not boring.

"I don't abide well with rules, Miss Swan."

"Undoubtedly," she retorted, brushing back her hair. "Nevertheless, if we are to enact this charade, I am afraid I must insist on a few concessions on your part."

"I abide even less with concessions."

"Would you just listen to me!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. "For heaven's sake, you don't even know what I'm asking!"

He eyed her for a moment, then nodded slightly. "Very well. What are your demands?"

Bella inhaled deeply. "First of all, I sleep in the bed."

Edward snorted. "Now who's being forward?"

"Not with you, you arrogant prat!" she snapped. "_I_ sleep in the bed. _You_ sleep in the cot."

Edward huffed out a laugh. "Not bloody likely!"

"You'd put your comfort before a lady's?" she asked haughtily.

"Always." He leaned forward with a leering smile. "That is, unless she's in the bed _with_ me."

Bella colored, but didn't rise to bait. "Very well. It is your bed, after all. But I'm afraid I must insist on a mattress at least. There is no way I can sleep on those ropes."

Edward fought a smile when he realized that Bella never intended to take his bed, but was using it as a negotiating tactic. "All right," he conceded. "There are some ticks in the hold. But you'll haul it up yourself. No bothering my men with menial tasks."

"Yes, well, I suppose menial tasks are my job now, right?" she muttered.

"Exactly." Cullen leaned his elbows on the desk, fingers tented before his lips. "Anything else?"

"No chamber pots. That is non-negotiable."

Edward winced. He could hardly blame her. "Done."

She lifted her chin. "And no sneaking peeks," she said. "When I'm dressing...or bathing. And absolutely no more kissing."

Cullen raised a brow. "No kissing? None at all?"

"You've established our apparent _relationship_ with your crew. They're aware I'm staying in your quarters. I wouldn't think it necessary."

He rubbed a finger lightly over his lips...back and forth. "Not necessary, no," he said, voice low, considering. Bella's gaze drifted to his mouth, where he continued to trace a slow circuit across his lips. "But enjoyable."

She started, eyes snapping up. "Hardly!"

He stood, rounding the desk to stand disturbingly close to her. Bella took a step back, then forward again, refusing to be intimidated. He loomed over her, eye glittering in the lantern light.

"Are you certain it would be so distasteful, Miss Swan?" he rasped quietly. "So certain you wouldn't like it?"

"Of course I wouldn't!" she insisted, voice catching. She cleared her throat nervously. "I would never..."

"Never?" he pressed, leaning even closer. "No reason to hold back, Miss Swan. It's not as if your reputation is in danger."

Bella sputtered, unable to form words.

"You're already sharing quarters with a – how did you put it? – a _lecherous rake_," he prodded, unable to resist. "Why not enjoy yourself?"

He could see her trembling, although whether her discomfort stemmed from his proximity or her own reaction to it, he wasn't sure. She swayed toward him slightly, and his mouth curved in victory.

She spotted it, though, and her gaze hardened as she stepped back, straightening slightly. "Never!" she spat. "This is a business proposition, Captain. A means to an end. That is all. I'll not be welcoming any advances from a man such as you.

"As for my reputation, I am confident it will be restored once this whole troublesome business is over."

"Don't be so sure, Miss Swan," he retorted, sitting on the edge of his desk. "Some things, once lost, are lost forever."

Bella lifted her chin. "Regardless, I believe we have an accord?" She held out her hand, and Edward ignored the slight tremor in her fingers.

He took her hand, but instead of shaking it, lifted it to his lips, eyeing her over it with a wolfish smile. "You have my word. Should you change your mind, however..."

"I won't." She flushed, snatching her hand back and clutching it to her stomach.

Edward chuckled humorlessly. Although it was entertaining to goad her, he was beginning to find her distaste rather irritating. And insulting.

"Calm yourself, Miss Swan," he said, returning to his desk and dismissing her with a wave of his hand. "You have my word. I'm not one to foist my attentions on unwilling females. And, no offense intended, but I prefer my women to be a bit more...enthusiastic."

Bella gasped, but she seemed unsure as to whether she should express disgust at his preferences...or offense at his opinion of her romantic skills. She opted to ignore the comment altogether. "Good. Fine, then," she said, not meeting his gaze.

"You trust my word, Miss Swan?" he asked, unable to resist poking her one more time. "I am, after all, but a dishonorable pirate."

"True, but it appears I have no choice, do I?" she said, more comfortable now that the topic had moved away from the captain's bed. "Besides, if you falter, I can always find a bit of wood to knock you back into compliance. I'm sure there's an oar or two on board...or how about one of those planks you pirates always have people walking?"

"Miss Swan, did you just make a jest?"

"Perhaps," she said loftily. "I suppose you'll find out if you challenge me."

And just like that, Edward's irritation evaporated. He didn't let her see it, though.

"You know," he said, shuffling some papers on his desk. "You were much more agreeable as Smith."

"Funny," she replied, "you were just as arrogant and irritating."

He flashed her an evil smile, continuing as if she hadn't spoken. "In fact, I do believe I'll continue to call you Smith. Remind you of your place and all."

"Not if you expect me to respond."

"Off with you now," he ordered. "I've work to do, and you need to see to my breeches, and then to my supper."

Bella hesitated for a moment, and Edward could practically feel her rage. He braced himself for an attack, but she just said, "Aye, Sir," and sat down to mend his breeches.

~0~

Bella fumed as she sat in a chair, running a needle and thread through a tear in Cullen's breeches. Right down the back center seam.

She smirked, wondering who had seen him split the seat of his trousers.

Cullen whistled to himself as he did whatever he was doing back at his desk. She could feel him sneaking glances at her, and knew he was more than likely trying to find additional ways to irritate and annoy her, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. She just sat...and mended...

...and fumed...

...and plotted.

Mend his breeches? Oh, she could mend his breeches.

Attempting to look as innocent as possible, Bella clipped the thread, then slid another through the needle. She eyed the trousers carefully, smiling to herself as she placed them back on her lap and surreptitiously began to sew the hem closed on one leg. She hummed as she worked, reaching for a torn shirt when she finished with the trousers. By the time she'd finished with the pile of mending, sleeves were sewn to collars, breeches attached to socks, and one of Cullen's red scarves dangled from the shoulders of a shirt like a cape.

Bella nodded in contentment as she folded the last garment and put the stack of clothing into a trunk.

"I believe I'll go and see to your supper, Captain," she said. He grunted acknowledgment but didn't look up as she left the room, trying not to skip along the way.

Bella giggled slightly once the door closed behind her. She knew it was childish, but the man was so arrogant...so vile...

So...

She shook her head, unable to come up with further adjectives that could do the man justice. As she passed through the doorway where Cullen had accosted her, her cheeks heated. Although she now understood why he'd done what he'd done, she couldn't force down a flush of embarrassment at her reaction.

Because Cullen had been right. For a moment, she hadn't protested. She'd given in.

Bella had been kissed by three men in her life: her father – which didn't really count, she had to admit – a boy named Sebastian, who'd helped her up when she'd fallen off her pony when she was five, and Alistair Woodward, the young man who'd escorted her to her coming out ball. He'd been shy but determined when he walked with her out into the gardens, gripping her shoulders tightly with a look of determination on his face before pressing his wet, chapped lips to hers lightly.

It had been...nice, actually. Apparently, Alistair had not felt the same, however, because he never called on Bella again.

But none of those experiences had prepared her for the assault of Edward Cullen on her senses. He was so...big and hard and hot, so hot she feared he might sear her skin right through her clothes. And when his lips touched hers, she didn't really notice if they were wet or dry or chapped, because all she could think about was the heat and strange tingling sensation in her stomach, like she'd spun around in circle a hundred times and had to hold onto something to keep from falling to the ground.

So she'd held on to him. Shamefully, she'd clung to him, gasping as his tongue brushed her lips. The dizziness all but overwhelmed her at that warm, wet touch, and a surge of panic swept through her at what she might do if he didn't stop.

If it went on any longer, she half-feared she might not want him to.

Thankfully, she'd been able to compose herself enough to pull away, and his smug response had revived her like a bucket of ice cold water dumped on her head. She'd sobered quickly but managed to maintain their charade until they were out of view of the crew.

Oh, she'd enjoyed slapping him. The sting and throb in her palm was immensely satisfying. She would have liked to manage one more, but the man was just too damned fast.

Pity.

But she'd held her own, making her demands in a relatively composed manner. Still, although he'd agreed to her requests, she'd somehow left their conversation feeling he'd won. So, she could hardly be blamed for using her sewing skills to regain a little control of the situation.

Even if it was a bit childish.

Bella made her way to the galley, her step faltering slightly when she spotted two crewmen talking in the hallway. She stiffened, fists clenching and chin lifting, half-expecting a confrontation – or at least a snicker or two – but the men just nodded deferentially and stepped out of her way so she could pass.

_Odd._

She swept by them, following the scent of meat and spices into the cramped and steamy galley. The cook didn't look up from stirring a large kettle inside the brick firehearth. His muscles bunched, shirtsleeves rolled up as his skin gleamed with sweat, glowing in the firelight. Bella wondered how he could stand the heat. A few portholes and the open doorway were not nearly enough to create a breeze in the stifling room, and Bella longed for the fresh air on deck. Fortunately, large pipes vented the worst of the smoke out the side of the ship, but a slight haze still colored the air, making her squint. Bella cleared her throat to get his attention.

"Supper's not for another hour, so be off with ye!" he growled, still absorbed in his work. He slammed the hearth's large iron door shut and opened another smaller one to draw a few loaves of bread out of the oven with his bare hands. Before Bella could respond, he turned to drop the bread onto a wooden table and finally glanced up, wiping his sweating face with a rag. Surprise registered on his features, followed by a nervous swallow.

"Beg pardon, Miss." He quickly shoved the rag back into his pocket and ran a hand over his greasy black hair. "You here for the captain's supper?"

Bella wiped at the perspiration forming on her upper lip and nodded. He blinked, then began to bustle around the galley, gathering a tray and crockery bowl from an upper shelf. He loaded the tray with two loaves of the bread and a bowl of fragrant stew. All the while, he snuck glances at her, wiping his palms on his trousers intermittently.

_Why was everyone acting so strangely?_

"Are you sure you want to take this, Miss?" he asked finally, wary eyes meeting hers. "It's a bit heavy, and I'm sure I can find a lad to take it to the captain's quarters."

"I'll be fine. Thank you." She lifted the tray, balancing it carefully as she made her way back to the captain's cabin. Despite her focus on not spilling the food, she couldn't help but notice the eyes watching her as she carefully stepped across the deck. Conversations stopped; men stepped out of her way. One even hurried to move a cask from her path with an apologetic dip of his head.

Bella set the tray on a barrel in the corridor so she could open the captain's door unhindered. He looked up, startled, when she stepped inside, and she saw him quickly close the chest he'd retrieved from the _Lady_ and stash it in a drawer in his desk.

"What is it?" he growled.

Bella just rolled her eyes and retrieved the tray from the hallway. "Your supper, Your Worship," she said sarcastically, placing the food on the table and retrieving the jug of rum from his desk to fill his tankard. With only a brief hesitation, she poured a bit into a smaller mug, adding a hefty dose of water.

Edward watched her with a raised eyebrow, circling the desk to sit at the table. "Indulging, Smith?" he asked. "Perhaps you have a bit of pirate in you, after all."

"Don't call me that," she muttered, sipping from the mug. "There's something wrong with the crew," she said finally.

The captain didn't look up from his meal, dipping bread in the stew and stuffing it into his mouth. "My crew is my concern," he mumbled through his food.

"But they're behaving so...strangely."

Cullen glanced up. "What do you mean?"

Bella shrugged. "Tipping their hats, moving out of my way, saying 'Excuse me.' They're being..._polite_."

Cullen grinned, shoveling up a spoonful of stew. "Oh, that."

Bella paused, the cup midway to her mouth. "Yes. _That_," she said, wondering at his tone. "Why are they acting like that?"

He just shrugged and continued eating. "It's to be expected, actually. Given your new status as the captain's woman."

She sighed heavily. "Can't we call it something else?"

Edward smirked. "Consort? Courtesan? Mistress?"

Bella waved a hand. "Fine. Fine. I suppose 'captain's woman' will have to do," she said distastefully. "So now they're afraid of me or something?"

"Not actually _afraid_," he said hesitantly, spoon swirling slowly in his bowl.

"Well, then what, exactly?"

He wiped his mouth with a linen napkin, glancing at her briefly. Was he nervous? Bella wasn't sure.

"The crew is aware how you first came to be on this ship, and what happened before you escaped to the _Intrepid_."

Bella winced. "They_ all_ know I tried to kill you?"

"Few secrets are kept on a ship, Smith." He sat back, crumbling a piece of bread between his fingertips. "They know you tried to kill me, yet I have now – as far as they know – taken you to my bed. They can only assume, therefore, that you must have talents significant enough to outweigh my need for vengeance."

"Talents?" Bella swallowed, feeling a bit nauseous.

Cullen smiled wryly, holding up a finger. "_Significant_ talents."

"In other words," Bella said, mouth dry and face flushing hot. "They think I've seduced you with my incredible skills."

"Indeed."

"But that doesn't explain why they're treating me this way," she prodded, unable to just let the conversation go.

The captain chuckled lightly. "It's simple, really. Although I'm known to treat my women well, I rarely keep them for long."

Bella didn't like where this was going. "And...?"

"And," he continued with a wicked grin. "Since you are so incredibly skilled, they're all hoping for the opportunity to explore your charms. Once I'm finished with you."

Bella gasped, her hand flying to her forehead. "Good lord."

"It's rather flattering, if you think about it."

She glared at him, but he only laughed in response.

Bella drained her cup of rum and filled it again.

Forgoing the water this time.

~0~

Once Bella had finished the rest of the stew and bread – Edward needed to make sure she brought food for herself from then on – he went back to work, and she left to take the dishes to the galley and relay a few orders to McCarty.

He watched her leave, listening for her fading footsteps before opening the bottom drawer in his desk and retrieving the chest. He hadn't told Bella the whole truth. There_ were_ secrets on his ship. And what he found in the chest was one of them.

With another glance toward the door, he opened the lid, running his fingers over the contents lightly. A few coins, a jeweled comb, a carved wooden cross about the size of his palm.

But it was the locket he'd been hoping to find, and as he lifted it from the chest, he couldn't keep the victorious smile off his face. The silver oval was tarnished, the chain broken below the clasp, but he knew its shoddy exterior belied its importance. He studied the intricate knot on the front, an inverted triangle wrapped around an emerald the size of his fingernail. Turning the locket over, he picked up a magnifying glass to examine the engraving on the back.

_Ecce sto ad ostium et pulso._

_Behold, I stand at the door and knock._

The Apocalypse of St. John, Chapter 3, Verse 20. Another piece of Scripture, and again, Edward had no idea what it meant.

With a frown, he returned the necklace to the chest and flipped through the worn journal on his desk. He stopped, running his hand down the faded words, when he saw the familiar sketch along one of the page margins. It was the same locket, a simple rendering, but definitely identifiable. Below the drawing, two hastily scrawled words.

_The Key._

For the hundredth time, Edward read through the rest of the entry on the page, mundane ramblings about daily life in the colonies, shopping at the marketplace, a trip to have a horse re-shod. Nothing to shed any light on the locket or its purpose.

Yet it was important. Evidently, it was _The Key_.

Edward sighed, closing the journal, and put both it and the journal back in the drawer. He locked it and dropped the key into a small cup tucked in a corner on the upper shelf behind him.

For the first time in months, he was unsure how to proceed. Rubbing his eyes, he poured himself a bit more rum, swallowing it in one gulp.

There was only one choice, really. He knew it. He just dreaded making it.

The next morning, he'd tell the crew to set sail for South Carolina.

He needed to speak to Alice.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Because this has been brought up in a few reviews, I thought I'd address it here. Even though Edward only has one eye, he can still wink. A wink is defined as: "To close and open the eyelid of one eye deliberately, as to convey a message, signal, or suggestion." So, even though he only HAS one eye, if he closes and opens it in this manner, it's a wink. And his message, signal, or suggestion is usually a cheeky one. :-)

Teaser for Chapter 7 will be on The Fictionators site on Monday - www (dot) thefictionators (dot) com.

Oh, and if you're like to see pictures of the characters in this story, they're on my LiveJournal: pics (dot) livejournal (dot) com/tkegl/gallery/0002g88c

Thanks for reading - See you Tuesday!


	7. Chapter 7: Nightmare

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading. And thanks to all of you who are reading and reviewing!

* * *

><p><em><strong>One would think the gentle rocking of a ship would encourage sleep. I find, to the contrary, it serves only to exacerbate my violent illness. It appears I have not the constitution for sea travel, and I find my only relief is to climb to the deck and recline in the open air.<strong>_

_**I fear this voyage may never end.**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 22 July, 1665**_

**Chapter 7: Nightmare**

The dream was always the same. A memory from his past wrapped in the darkness of his subconscious, lying in wait only to rear its head while he lay coddled in the complacency of sleep.

But although Edward _knew_ it was a dream – could tell from the surreal way his surroundings blurred at the edges of his vision, melting and swirling like watercolors washed away by the rain – he could not force himself to wake up.

Terror quickened the beat of his heart, the pounding echo in his ears a countermelody to the rattling tick of raindrops on the slickened deck of the _Black Arrow. _Muffled grunts and clanging metal heralded the battle around him as the crew fought to keep the ship. They fought bravely, though so many had already fallen, including Bootless Billy – caught by surprise by a blade across his neck as he slept.

Edward's fingers clutched at his sword hilt, frozen despite the drip of hot blood down his arm. He held the blade with his left hand, his right clutched at the wound across his ribs, desperately holding together the flayed flesh as he struggled for breath, his back pressed against the wall behind him. The icy rain slashed at his exposed skin as he raised the sword again, unwilling to yield to his opponent.

A chilling laugh cut through the storm. "Why don't you give up, boy?" he asked. "You cannot defeat me. Just give me what I want and perhaps I'll spare your life."

A retort pressed at the back of Edward's gritted teeth, but he lacked the strength to force the words out. It took everything he had to hold the sword aloft, to surge forward and strike.

A ring of metal preceded the sharp sting up his arm, and Edward's sword clattered to the deck. He staggered, able to fight back the dizziness for only a moment before his legs gave out and he fell to his knees. His opponent grinned, blackened teeth almost invisible in the dark.

"And so it comes to this," he said. "Your great quest for vengeance ends not with a roar, but a pitiful whimper." He stepped forward, sword extended, until Edward felt the point prick at his throat. He swallowed, wincing as the blade pierced his skin, but in his exhaustion was unable to do anything but wait for the inevitable.

"You know, _Eddie_, it's a pity, really. You put up a far better fight than your father."

A surge of red-hot fury gave Edward a burst of strength, and he dove across the deck, fingers scrabbling at the hilt of his sword as a boot landed hard on his back. He screamed in pain…again, as the boot shoved him over onto his back, then kicked the sword away.

Edward couldn't move. He lay unable to even blink against the raindrops, blood draining and pain numbing his entire body. He could just make out the pair of boots coming to a stop by his head and turned enough to meet his enemy's black gaze.

He would not look away from his death.

"Really, _Eddie_, you're only postponing the inevitable." The sword returned to his throat. "Where is the journal?"

Edward only glared in response. The man shrugged.

"Very well," he said with a sigh. "Make no mistake. I _will _find it, Edward. It's only a matter of time, something I have plenty of." He lifted a boot, setting it on Edward's chest as he lifted his sword for a final blow. "Unfortunately, you do not."

A flash of lightning lit the blade as it slashed through the air, a sight Edward was certain would be his last. He tightened his muscles for the killing blow, but it did no good. The sword sliced through him cleanly across his chest, blood spurting his life force onto the deck, a wickedly grinning face mocking him as he felt his death approach.

With a pained scream, Edward awoke in a cold sweat, damp sheets tangled between his legs. He sat up abruptly, his hands flying to his chest as his fingers explored the flesh.

No blood. No wounds. No pain. Nothing but the thick scar running up his ribs, and the other up his cheek, disappearing under his patch. He normally didn't wear it to sleep, but with his new bunkmate, he thought it best.

"Captain?" A soft voice called out, as if she'd heard his thoughts. "Are you all right?"

He started to reply, but the words caught. Clearing his throat, he said, "I'm fine. It's...nothing."

"Bad dream?" She sounded closer, and Edward panicked slightly at the idea that she might come to him, see him at his weakest.

"I said it's nothing," he spat. Edward felt a twinge of regret for snapping at the woman when she'd only expressed concern. He still felt flayed by the dream, exposed in a way he let no one see. Usually, he was alone with his nightmares, able to turn on all the lamps and examine himself closely in the mirror. Only then could he truly believe that it had only been a dream.

He hadn't died. Jasper had stepped in and diverted the blow, and instead of losing his life, he'd simply lost an eye. Well, even Edward had to admit it was a bit more serious than that. His recovery had taken months, and more than once he'd nearly succumbed to fever and infection. By the time he'd returned to the _Arrow,_ the worst of his wounds were on their way to healing, but the worst of the scars were not physical.

The nightmares haunted him. Eventually, he learned to control his reactions and harness the pain and fear and hatred into a single-minded focus, a focus that eventually led to him becoming First Mate of the _Arrow, _and finally the captain.

A focus that kept him going, even when shadows from the past threatened to cut him off at the knees.

"Fine," Bella said quietly, and Edward could make out the quiet rustle of sheets as she returned to her bed. "I was only attempting to be considerate."

Edward settled back, kicking off his blankets and folding his arms behind his head. He knew why the dreams had returned so vividly as of late. He was getting closer to his goal, and his mind – even in sleep – knew he needed to be prepared for what lay ahead.

Or rather who.

He rolled onto one side, then the other, unable to get comfortable due to the unyielding hollowness in his stomach. He couldn't understand why he felt so empty. He'd had a fine supper, as well as a few biscuits before bed.

Then it hit him. It wasn't hunger.

It was guilt.

Which was all the more irritating. Why should he feel guilty? He was Edward Cullen, Scourge of the High Seas. He didn't feel guilt or regret. He had a will of iron, a black heart incapable of such emotions.

Yet...

He flopped onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes. With a heavy sigh, he pulled it away, staring unseeingly up into the darkness above him.

He cleared his throat. "Smith?"

No response.

"I...uh..." He took a deep breath. This should not have been so difficult. "I appreciate your concern," he said finally, waiting for her to laugh, or perhaps chastise him for apologizing without actually saying he was sorry.

Instead, Bella Swan surprised him yet again.

"I know nightmares can be frighteningly real," she said. "Would you...would you like to tell me about it?"

Edward swallowed thickly, overcome with a sudden desire to do just that. He fought back the urge, however. He was not one to rely on anyone, let alone a female.

Still, he managed to force a note of politeness into his voice as he spoke into the darkness.

"Not at the moment. But...thank you."

"Don't mention it."

Edward felt a weight lift, and he couldn't keep a slight smile off his lips. He rolled onto his side, and within a few moments he slipped back into a dreamless sleep.

~0~

The next morning, Bella stood on deck, the wind whipping her hair loose from the knot at the back of her head. The ocean spread before them, wide and blue and tipped with frothy white. She kept her knees loose under her skirts, absorbing the sway of the ship without much trouble, and gazed out over the horizon, her mind whirling with thoughts as she worried her pendant between her thumb and forefinger.

When she'd come aboard the _Arrow _– on a bit of a whim, she had to admit now – everything had seemed so clear. She had a single goal in mind, to kill Cullen, and everything she did was aimed at reaching that goal.

But now...

Now it had all become so complicated. She still wouldn't mind bringing Cullen low, but she also had to work with him to make sure she discovered the absolute truth about who killed her father. What that would entail, Bella wasn't quite certain, and until then she found herself in the distasteful position of having to rely on the captain.

To _trust_ him.

Her shoulders shifted at the uncomfortable thought, and she looked up, distracted for a moment by a shrieking gull overhead. She envied it a little, its freedom and single-mindedness.

Bella sighed. She still didn't know what she would do once she found out once and for all who was responsible for her father's death. She knew she couldn't kill him, whether it indeed be Cullen or some other unsavory character. So she would most likely need to work within the bounds of the law.

Which meant she would need evidence. Or a confession of guilt. Neither of which she was optimistic she would be able to procure.

Still, Cullen seemed to want him dead as well. So perhaps the captain would accomplish the deed in her stead.

A coward's way out perhaps, but in the end she would get what she wanted.

As for Cullen? Well, that was yet another unanswered question. If he aided her in her quest for vengeance, could she betray him by turning him over to Hunter, even if he was a criminal? Bella shook her head. It was just too much to consider at the moment. She needed to take things one step at a time. It was the only way.

A movement captured her attention, and she spotted the captain emerging from belowdecks to cross to the wheel and address Whitlock. The two men spoke, heads bent together, then Cullen glanced her way, meeting her gaze.

She looked away hurriedly.

She'd been avoiding him since his nightmare, slipping out of his cabin before dawn and hiding out in the galley under the guise of helping the cook – Victor, she'd learned – bake the day's ration of bread. She'd learned from chatter among the crew that they were on their way to South Carolina, although she didn't know why, and had yet to work up the courage to ask Cullen directly. Their middle-of-the-night conversation felt oddly intimate to Bella, leaving her unsure of what to say in the light of day and feeling a bit awkward about the encounter. It wasn't that she judged him for his moment of weakness. She didn't even see it as that, although she was insightful enough to know that _he_ did. Bella had her own bouts with bad dreams after her father's death, and she hadn't been indulging Cullen when she'd told him she understood.

So it wasn't the nightmare, or even the conversation afterward that left her uncomfortable, exactly.

It was that Edward Cullen finally seemed..._human_.

Seeing him as a ruthless barbarian made it much easier to steel herself for what she had to do. But hearing his fearful whimpers as he battled his dream demons reminded Bella so much of herself. It wasn't pity so much as compassion, really.

But compassion was a dangerous thing. It distracted her. It made her weak.

The ship plunged over a large wave, salty spray washing over Bella's face. She shivered slightly, drawing her shawl tighter around her shoulders.

"Bella?"

She turned at the low voice, smiling at the tall form of Jacob Black. He grinned back at her, white teeth flashing in his dark skin, the details of his facial tattoo more visible in the daylight - a stylized dragon, head curving around his eye and body sweeping sinuously from temple to chin. A dimple in his cheek made the dragon's tail curve in on itself slightly, and lessened the intimidation factor considerably.

"Jacob," she said. "How are you?"

"Well, thank you." He rolled his shoulders slightly. "The sleeping accommodations are much more comfortable on this ship, I have to admit."

Bella laughed. "Really? And I would have thought a tiny cage would be so cozy."

"You would think so, wouldn't you?" he said, feigning confusion. "Sadly, it is not the case."

His smile faded as he asked cautiously, "And you? Are you well?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine."

"The...the captain treats you decently?"

Bella flushed when she realized that of course Jacob was under the same impression as the rest of the crew – that she was sharing a bed with the captain.

She leaned toward him, speaking quietly. "Things are not..._exactly_ as they appear."

"Oh?"

"The captain thought it best, for my own protection, that the crew be under the impression we are...romantically entangled."

"For your own protection."

"Yes."

Jacob considered this for a moment, brow knit in concentration. "You know, Bella, you could have asked me for help. I would protect you. You needn't compromise yourself out of fear."

"I'm not compromising myself," Bella said quickly, glancing around and lowering her voice to ensure their conversation wasn't overheard. "That is the point. The crew believes it, but it isn't true."

"But your reputation..."

"My reputation was destroyed the moment I set foot on this ship," Bella said, resigned to a truth she had only just come to accept. "I can't concern myself with that. I have a higher purpose at hand."

"Ah, yes," Jacob replied. "This mission you spoke of."

"Yes."

"And you must pose as Cullen's harlot in order to succeed? It is _that_ important?" He couldn't keep the bite of distaste out of his voice.

Bella stiffened, looking him in the eye. "It is," she said. "And I'll thank you not to speak to me in that tone."

Jacob drew a deep breath. "I apologize. I just..." He glanced back at where Cullen stood at the wheel, steering with two fingers. "I don't entirely trust Cullen."

"Well, that's good. Neither do I," Bella admitted.

"Then why are you doing this?"

Bella sighed, turning to look out over the choppy sea. "I was just standing here considering that very question," she said. "Cullen says he knows the truth...about who murdered my father."

Jacob was silent for a long moment. Bella looked up to find him watching her closely.

"That's it?" he asked. "You're out for vengeance?"

"Justice," she corrected.

"Regardless of the word, it is a dangerous proposition, Bella."

"Yes, I'm aware of that."

"And you think Cullen is going to aid you in this quest?" he asked, shaking his head. "That man is only out for treasure and power, Bella. He only thinks of himself."

"He claims his own quarrel with this man."

"Why?"

"He didn't say."

"Well, who is this man?" Jacob asked.

"I...I don't know." Bella looked away, embarrassed that she hadn't even asked.

Jacob ran a hand through his thick black hair, fisting it between his fingers. "You are playing a dangerous game, Bella, and you don't even know who all the players are."

"I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" he asked.

"Jacob, listen," Bella said, turning to face him again. "I understand your concern. I do. And I appreciate it. But I am working with Cullen, at least for the moment. I need to find out the truth about what happened. I _have_ to know."

"And then what?"

"Then..." She sighed, pulling her shawl tight and hugging herself around the middle. "I'm not sure. I want him to pay, but to be completely honest, I'm not certain how just yet.

"I don't have all the answers," she said. "But I must find out the truth. Right now, that is all that I care about."

They stood, side by side, looking out over the water. A fish jumped and a gull swept down just a moment too late to catch a meal.

"I understand..." Jacob said finally. "I understand what it's like to lose a father."

Bella felt a wave of compassion. "I'm sorry."

"As I am...for you." He cleared his throat. "I will help you. If I can."

"Thank you, Jacob."

He shrugged. "It is the least I could do for a fellow prison escapee," he joked, and the two shared a quiet laugh.

"I need to get back below," he said finally. "I have duties to attend to. But, Bella...if you need me...please..."

She looked into his imploring eyes. "I'll ask. I promise."

He nodded, then turned to walk away. Bella caught sight of Cullen across the deck, watching her, his gaze dark and unreadable.

She just arched a brow, drew her shawl tighter about her, and returned to perusing the swelling waves.

~0~

Edward stood at the wheel, steering idly as the wind whipped about him, spray stinging his face. He'd finally dismissed Jasper to other duties, needing the salt air to clear his head and focus his thoughts.

He hated going to Alice for help.

It wasn't that he disliked his sister. Far from it. He loved her deeply and counted her as one of his closest friends, as well.

But Alice saw too much and never feared or resisted sharing that information. And, Edward had to admit, there were times he'd prefer not to hear it. She also worried about him, about his life and his choices, and fussed over him like a mother hen. It was equal parts endearing and irritating, but not something he would ever want his crew to witness.

Except Whitlock, of course. The man wouldn't stay back on the ship, even if he ordered him to. Jasper was disgustingly besotted with Edward's sister and had been since the day he had first laid eyes on her. When Edward had given the order to set sail for Charles Towne, he couldn't miss the stiffening of Jasper's spine, the slight flush of his cheeks.

It was pathetic, really. Edward preferred not to dwell on it though, not particularly enthusiastic about a train of thought that could potentially lead to mental images of his best friend with his sister.

He could hardly be blamed.

Again, his gaze drifted to where Bella stood at the starboard gunwale, looking out over the water. She was alone now, and Edward was glad Jacob Black had finally returned to his duties. Several times he'd almost stalked over to where the two stood laughing and talking – rather intimately and inappropriately, he might add, given Bella's status as his woman – to order the man to get back to work. It wasn't that it bothered him, of course, but he would not have his crew viewing him as a cuckold, even if his relationship with Bella was a fabrication in the first place.

It was the principle of the thing.

He watched her as she stood quietly – the quietest he'd ever seen her, except for sleeping – and wondered what might be going through her mind.

She was insane, thinking she could seek vengeance for her father's death. Edward knew who was responsible, and Bella, as annoying and hardheaded as she was, was no match for him. Still, he couldn't help feeling a bit of satisfaction at the fact that when he exacted his revenge, he would be acting for her as well.

It was the least he could do if Bella helped him find what he sought.

His mind whirled as he considered the contents of the journal and the items listed which he'd already procured: the cutlass and the locket. But the cup...the cup was out there somewhere, and he had no idea where to begin searching for it. The last he'd heard, it was in the custody of Mellick's grandnephew, but the man had died three years earlier, his estate sold off to pay debts and the cup vanishing without a trace.

Which led him to Alice.

She'd know he was coming, of course, and she'd know why. She always did. Which made it all the more irritating when she refused to acknowledge it. Alice would make Edward ask, even though she knew what he was going to ask before he asked it.

He frowned. Sometimes his sister drove him absolutely insane. Edward was relatively certain she was aware of that fact and actually reveled in it.

But she kept his secrets, even from his father, and for that, Edward had to be grateful.

For Alice was the only one who knew, apart from Jasper, that Edward's single-minded goal to seek out the relics wasn't about treasure, at least not entirely.

It was about beating _him._ It was about finding _him._

For once Edward found the man responsible for his nightmares and his wounds, wounds that flowed much more deeply than a few scars, he would make him pay.

The name sizzled through his brain, burning behind his eyes.

_Aro._

The man had taken everything from him, destroyed his family, destroyed his life. And Edward would not rest until he repaid the favor.

He absently noticed as Bella turned from the water and walked back through the doorway toward his quarters.

She would have her vengeance too.

But only after she helped him get his.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Teaser for Chapter 8 will be up on The Fictionators on Monday – www (dot) thefictionators (dot) com.

I also have some exciting news. I've recently signed a publishing contract for a three book series, the first of which should hopefully be out by the end of the year! No, this will not be re-vamped fanfiction – it's a completely original story. And I'm not abandoning fanfiction – I will be completing Cutlass. I'll keep my profile updated with more information as things progress. Thanks for your support!

See you Tuesday!


	8. Chapter 8: A Clash of Wills

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading. Thanks to all of you who are reading and reviewing, too. I so appreciate your support!

* * *

><p><em><strong>I see now why they call it the New World. It is a vast, uncharted land, full of mysteries and wonder. Perhaps, once my mission is complete I may explore it further.<strong>_

_**Until then, I have secured transportation south. I am leery to set foot on a ship again, so will travel by land as far as I am able. Perhaps the warmer seas of the Caribbean will prove more hospitable than the violent Atlantic.**_

_**I can yet but hope.**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 23 October, 1665**_

**Chapter 8: A Clash of Wills**

"Damn it, Smith!"

Bella smirked as she scrubbed the captain's laundry, his voice echoing up the hall to the deck. She rubbed a bit of soap into his breeches, dipping them into the water as she began to hum lightly.

In a moment, Cullen appeared in the doorway, and Bella had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. He had a shirt over his head, but one hand was caught in the sleeve where she'd sewn the cuff shut. The other sleeve was completely missing, the armhole sewn closed, so his right hand stuck out the hem of his shirt. His gaze swept the deck until he spotted her, then he stalked over, a murderous scowl on his face.

Bella wrung out the breeches and set them in her basket before drying her hands on her apron and looking up.

"Good morning, Captain," she said cheerfully, getting to her feet.

"Good morning?" he bellowed. "That's all you have to say for yourself?"

She gazed at him blankly. "I'm certain I have no idea what you mean."

"Oh, well I'm certain you most _certainly_ do!" He sneered, waving his sleeve at her. "Look what you've done to my shirt!"

She examined the sleeve carefully. "It would appear the sleeve has been sewn shut, sir."

"Oh, really?" he said mockingly, shaking the sleeve at her face. "I hadn't noticed!"

Bella fought to maintain her innocent expression. "That's rather surprising. I would imagine it makes it difficult to wear."

He leaned in, his face inches from hers. "You think this is funny? Do you? Well, we'll see how funny it is when you're chained to the mizzen!"

Bella frowned. "You can't be serious."

"Try me," Cullen snarled. "Whitlock!"

For the first time, Bella noticed the curious glances of the crew gathered nearby. Newton, his nose still swollen and bruised, glared at her – a usual occurrence of late – and turned to head belowdecks. The first mate hurried forward.

"Yes, sir?"

"Put this woman in irons!" Cullen pointed at Bella with his sewed-up sleeve. Whitlock bit his lip, and for a split-second Bella thought he might have been amused, but just as quickly, his expression sobered.

"Yes, sir," he said gruffly, taking Bella by the arm and leading her to one of the masts. Another crewman stepped forward with shackles, and Whitlock pushed her back, stretching her arms behind her and part way around the mast before locking the shackles around her wrists.

"You can't leave me like this!" she shouted.

Whitlock arched a brow. "'Tis not a good idea to anger the captain."

"No, wait." Cullen stepped forward, tapping his chin with his free hand. Bella tried not to notice the expanse of golden skin exposed by the motion. "Bind her to the mast, but free her hands. She still has work to do."

Bella huffed. "As if I'd do anything for you, you barbarian!"

"You'll do as you're told," Cullen hissed. "Or you'll spend the rest of this voyage tied to this post. Don't test me, wench. You. Will. Lose."

Whitlock and the other crewman approached with a length of rope. "You should probably sit down," Jasper suggested. Bella considered refusing for a moment, but then he added, "You're likely to be there for a while. It will be more comfortable." Bella lifted her chin but slid down the post to sit on the deck. They tied her firmly, the rope looped around her waist and just under her arms, before releasing the shackles.

Cullen watched with satisfaction, pulling on the ropes to test their strength before nodding at Whitlock in approval. "Get one of the boys to retrieve my trunk so the wench can get to work." He turned to her, pulling off his shirt and tossing it into her lap. "I expect _all _of my clothes to be mended properly before you're released," he snarled. "_All_ of them. And do not toy with me Smith, or you will pay dearly."

She met his glare with one of her own, trying desperately to avoid looking at his bare chest. Her cheeks flamed with anger and embarrassment, but she knew she'd been bested, at least this time. Her gaze dropped, and she heard Cullen's victorious chuckle.

He turned on his heel and strode toward the wheel as a young boy dragged Cullen's trunk over to her and threw open the lid. He handed her a sewing kit and scurried off without a word. Bella picked up the shirt with a frown and began to pull out the stitches on the cuff.

She sighed heavily, annoyed at herself for letting this childish bit of retribution drive her further from her goal. She was supposed to get _closer_ to Cullen, not make him angry. He was just so blasted arrogant it was difficult for her to hold back. Her temper was proving to be her worst enemy.

Bella grimaced, knowing what she had to do. She had to gain Cullen's trust. Which meant she had to be..._nice_. No matter how distasteful the thought, how irritating and frustrating and infuriating the man was, it was the only way. She rolled her shoulders, trying to relax her muscles.

She could do it. She could be nice. How hard could it be?

Bella snipped a thread, glancing up at Cullen surreptitiously. He stood at the wheel, talking with Crowley, his fingers loosely wrapped around the wheel.

She definitely did _not_ notice the way his golden skin played over the muscles of his back, or the way his breeches hung on his hips, his sword belt cutting in slightly to the exposed flesh.

She did _not _notice the glint of his teeth as he laughed at something Crowley said.

She did _not _feel her stomach flip or her skin heat as he stretched his arms up and his belt slipped just a _little _lower.

And she most definitely did _not _burst out laughing at the sight of the sock she'd sewn into the back seam of Cullen's trousers, currently flapping about like the tail of a dog.

She just smiled and got back to work, thinking it was completely worth it...even if she had ended up tied to the mizzen mast.

~0~

Edward kept a close eye on Bella as she mended his clothing, or rather, re-mended them. He tried not to show his surprise at the rather impressive pile of garments around her. The wench had obviously been pretty determined in her efforts.

He couldn't keep back a slight smile at the idea. For such a tiny thing, she was a worthy adversary, he had to admit.

As the sun peaked, he quietly ordered that she be brought some water and a bit of hardtack. Despite Bella's opinion, he was not, in fact, a barbarian. Eventually, he made his way over to her, picking up a shirt and examining it closely before pulling it over his head. He looked down at her, surprised when her eyes dropped and her cheeks flushed pink.

He opened his mouth to comment but for once found he didn't know what to say. Instead, he turned to Jasper.

"Check her work, and if it's done satisfactorily, cut her loose," he said gruffly.

Jasper nodded, and – to Edward's surprise – Bella smiled up at him sweetly.

"Thank you," she said.

Edward stared at her for a moment, unsure of how to respond. His eye narrowed. "Don't be trying your feminine wiles on me, Smith."

"Wiles?" Bella said innocently. "I am just trying to make peace, Captain. You were right. I shouldn't have done this to your clothes. It was childish, and I apologize." The ropes loosened and she got to her feet, stretching with a wide smile. "It feels good to be free again. I suppose I should get all of this put away, yes?" Edward watched in shock, unable to look away as she gathered the folded clothes, put them in the trunk, and closed it with a satisfied sigh.

She turned to Jasper. "Mr. Whitlock, do you suppose you could have someone take this back to the captain's quarters for me? It is a bit heavy, and I really should see to the captain's supper."

"Um." Jasper glanced nervously at Edward, who had yet to find his tongue. "Yes...yes, of course, Miss. I'll see to it."

"Thank you," she said, brushing her hands over her skirt and flashing Edward another bright smile before heading toward the galley. Edward and Jasper watched her go in stunned silence.

"What in the world was that all about?" Jasper murmured.

"I have no idea," Edward replied. "But I don't trust that wench for a second."

"I don't blame you," Jasper replied. "Have you seen the seat of your trousers?"

Edward's hand flew to his backside, and he growled in frustration when he felt the sock dangling behind him. "That woman is evil incarnate."

Jasper smirked. "You just don't like the fact that she's not afraid of you."

"Well, she should be," he retorted. "I can't decide if she's incredibly brave or incredibly stupid."

"She's not stupid."

"No, I suppose not," Edward admitted, turning to head to his quarters.

Jasper hefted the trunk and walked beside him. "Are you sure it's a good idea? Keeping her on board? I understand you wish to make her pay-"

"It's not about that." Edward glanced about to ensure their privacy before replying, his voice barely a whisper. "She's Charlie Swan's daughter," he said. "It's possible she has information that could prove useful."

"And you think she'll be sharing that information...with you?" Jasper snorted, shifting the weight of the trunk. "She doesn't exactly seem to like you, let alone trust you."

"Not yet, but she'll come around."

"Oh? What makes you so certain?"

Edward grinned, holding his arms wide. "How can she resist?"

~0~

Bella gritted her teeth as she approached the captain's quarters, his booming laughter grating on her nerves. She took a deep breath before walking through the open doorway, painting on a smile and balancing his supper tray carefully in her hands. She hummed as she set the tray on the table, arranging the plate and silver and straightening the napkin before pouring a tankard of rum.

"I hope you're hungry..." She looked up to find Cullen and Whitlock staring at her suspiciously. Perhaps she'd overdone it. Was it possible to be too nice?

"Is something wrong?" she asked innocently.

The two men exchanged a look and Cullen approached the table, sitting down and taking a bite of his meat. Jasper sat across from him, pouring rum into another mug and drinking it down in two gulps, an amused smile on his face.

"My boots need polishing, Smith," Cullen said gruffly. "And the bed linens need to be changed and washed."

She glanced mournfully at the pile of linens and blankets on the bed. Washing them would take forever.

"Of course," she said, the words catching slightly.

"You'll need to scrub the floor," he added. "Be sure to move the furniture so you can get it all."

Jasper emitted a choked sound, quickly covering it with another swallow of rum.

"Yes, sir."

"Then you can see to my chamber pot."

Bella stiffened. "Your chamber pot?"

Cullen chewed on a piece of bread. "It needs to be emptied, then scrubbed thoroughly."

"But..." Bella swallowed, trying to keep control of her temper.

_Be nice_, she thought.

"But, I thought we agreed no chamber pots."

The captain shrugged, washing down a mouthful of food with some rum. "My chamber pot needs cleaning, so I'm renegotiating our agreement."

"You...you can't do that!"

_Be nice._

"No?" he asked. "I believe I just did."

Bella inhaled deeply, letting it out slowly. And again. And again.

It wasn't helping.

"Or," Cullen continued, his tone conversational as he swiveled in his seat, eyeing her intently. "You could tell me exactly what you're up to, Smith."

Bella swallowed, her anger quickly giving way to nervousness. "What do you mean?"

His gaze didn't waver. "I can tolerate many things. But if we are to adhere to this agreement between you and me, one thing I demand is honesty."

"Honesty?" she huffed. "As if you know the meaning of the word!"

"I know it doesn't mean pretending to be some dim-witted female in order to gain my trust."

Bella flushed. Apparently her ruse was not as successful as she'd hoped.

"I may withhold certain information, but I have never lied to you," he added.

"Oh?" she said, hands propped on her hips. "Then...tell me what you know of my father."

Cullen became suddenly interested in his plate, pushing the food around with his fork. Jasper swirled a finger around the rim of his tankard, eyes flickering from the captain to Bella and back again with interest.

"Come now, Captain," Bella wheedled. "Where is all of this newfound honesty? You knew his name. You knew he had a daughter. What I don't understand is how a no-good-" Her words cut off at his irritated glare. "How a _pirate_ became acquainted with a law-abiding businessman like my father."

Edward considered her challenge for a moment, then glanced at Jasper and jerked his head slightly. The first mate rose and left the room without a word, closing the door behind him. Edward gestured toward the now empty chair across from him, and with an irritated huff, Bella sat down.

"Why don't you start by telling _me _what you know of your father," he said. Bella's eyes flashed, and he held up a hand. "Just, bear with me, please," he said. "It would be simpler for me to fill in the blanks than to tell you things you already know."

She frowned, irritated at the idea that Cullen would know any of the blanks in her father's life, but she nodded in acquiescence anyway.

"My father was a good man," she began. "He served in the Royal Navy for most of my life. My mother died when I was born, and his sister, my aunt, cared for me while he was at sea. She died of the influenza when I was fourteen, and he resigned his commission so he could return home to be with me.

"He took up a position in trade and became quite successful. Then, one night a noise awakened me – a gunshot – and I found him in his study..." Her words trailed off as she swallowed the tears in her throat.

"I found him," she said roughly, her spine stiffening. "He lay bleeding on the carpet. There was blood everywhere..." She swiped at her cheeks, unsure when she'd begun to weep. "The room had been ransacked, papers everywhere, but all I could see was him. I dropped to my knees, and he looked up at me as I took his head in my lap," Bella droned on, in a daze as the memories swept over her. "He tried to speak, but his mouth filled with blood.

"In the end, he only said one word," she said, fixing him with a tear-filled stare.

"What did he say?" His jaw flexed, and she knew he already knew.

"Cullen."

He looked away, his voice a gruff whisper. "And that is why you think I killed him? Because he said my name?"

Bella took a deep breath, gathering herself. "Of course not. I didn't even know who you were, after all. I hired an investigator, who looked into the matter. He was the one who pointed me in your direction.

"But why else, Captain? Why else would he say your name with his dying breath, other than to identify you as his murderer?"

Cullen gazed unseeingly for a long moment, and Bella began to wonder if he would reply. Then he turned and looked into her eyes, and she was shocked at the intensity there...the resolve.

"Because Charlie Swan never sailed for the Crown," he said. "He was a pirate. And for a few short years, he was my friend."

~0~

In the warm waters south of Jamaica, the pirate ship _Abaddon's Curse_ stood at full alert, her crew braced for battle with swords and pistols drawn. With a confident swagger, the ship's captain strode across the deck, watching the approaching vessel with wary yet confident eyes.

It was not a Crown ship and was smaller than his own, so Captain Aro – known for so many years as Aro the Merciless that his proper surname was long forgotten – felt no compulsion to flee. Instead, he readied his crew for the encounter with high hopes there might be some treasure to be had at the end of the day. Why the ship was headed toward them at full sail had him a bit curious, however, and with an unspoken order, he held out a hand to his first mate, Marcus. The man placed a spyglass in his palm, and Aro raised it to his eye, the ship coming into focus.

"'Tis the _Enchanted Lady_," he murmured to himself. "What is Renard about?"

"He wouldn't dare attack," Marcus replied.

"No." The captain collapsed the spyglass, tucking it into his pocket. As a privateer, Renard had built a considerable reputation in the Caribbean – for both his legal, and not-so-legal endeavors – but no one dared attack the _Abaddon's Curse. _Even the British Navy gave Aro a wide berth unless forced to confront him."But we best be prepared nonetheless."

Marcus nodded, and at his order the rest of the crew stiffened, the _Lady _drawing nearer with every minute. It finally slowed off the port stern and dropped anchor, a white flag flapping wildly in the breeze.

"Sir?" Marcus asked quietly.

"Steady," Aro replied. "Let's see what he wants."

After a few moments he spotted a dinghy making its way toward them with only two men on board, Captain Renard and a crewman pulling the oars. The remainder of the crew stood on board the _Lady_, watching the goings-on with interest.

"They are not armed," Aro pointed out, indicating the other ship's crew. He still deferred ordering his crew down from alert. He hadn't become the most-feared pirate on the open sea by letting down his guard easily.

The captain looked up at him as the dinghy approached, holding a hand up in greeting, a white flag dangling from his fingertips. Aro granted them permission to board with a curt nod, and his men parted to allow the two men onto the deck, hands still poised on their weapons.

"Captain Aro," Renard said, doffing his hat with a flourish. "You are looking well."

Aro nodded. "What is this about, Renard?"

The _Lady's _captain glanced about nervously. "I was hoping perhaps to speak with you in private. It is a most urgent matter."

Aro eyed him consideringly, then turned to one of his men. "Search him."

"I assure you I am unarmed," Renard insisted, holding his hands up as the crewman patted down his frame. "I come in peace."

Aro snorted. "Peace?"

Renard grinned. "Well, in this case at least."

The crewman stepped back and Aro led Renard, flanked by Marcus and his Quartermaster, Caius, to his quarters. He sprawled in a large leather chair, black eyes regarding Renard piercingly as he perched on a smaller wooden one.

"Now," Aro said, "What is this about?"

Renard's expression sobered and he licked his lips nervously. "I...uh...understand you have an interest in One-Eyed Eddie Cullen."

Aro maintained a stoic façade. "What do you know of Cullen?"

"I know he boarded my ship and plundered my cargo," Renard said with a sneer. "Left my crew and passengers bound like animals."

Aro smirked. "Well, that does come along with the territory, doesn't it, Laurent?" he asked. "You are far from innocent in these matters yourself."

Renard shrugged. "Regardless, I believe we could be of assistance to each other."

Aro leaned an elbow on the arm of the chair, running a finger over his lips. "How so?"

"If you are searching for Cullen, I would like to help."

Aro laughed. "And what makes you think I need your help?"

"Perhaps not," Aro admitted. "But a second ship, a second crew, could prove useful when you finally find him."

"Aye," Aro said thoughtfully. "And what would you be getting out of this arrangement?"

Renard's eyes narrowed. "I simply want to see One-Eyed Eddie brought down a peg or two. If you're out to do that, I believe we have the same goal."

Aro stood up and paced slowly across the room. Cullen was a bothersome arse, he had to admit. The fact that he'd retrieved the cutlass still grated on his nerves, and if he'd ransacked the _Lady _as well, Aro wagered he'd found the pendant as well.

Yes, Cullen had become a thorn in his side, and one that must be dealt with soon.

Still, Renard was wrong when he said Aro was looking for One-Eyed Eddie. Because Aro knew it was only a matter of time before Cullen came looking for _him_. Still, he had to admit Renard's ship and crew could come in useful when it came to taking down the _Arrrow's _captain. Aro knew better than to underestimate the boy. He'd already cheated death once.

He turned, fixing Renard with a penetrating, black stare. "You, your ship, and your crew will be under my command. I will not tolerate any insubordination."

Renard tilted his head in deference. "As you wish. As I said, I only wish to see Cullen punished, and hopefully retrieve some of my cargo."

"Any booty will be divided by my quartermaster," Aro snapped. "Do not think I am allying myself with you in order to line your pockets, Laurent."

"Of course not," he replied, swallowing thickly. "I only ask that my crew be rewarded for their loyalty as yours will be."

Aro's chin lifted, then he nodded once. "Done."

A slow smile lit Captain Renard's face as he stood and extended his hand. "So we have a deal?"

Aro took it in a firm grip. "Aye, Captain. We have a deal."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So alliances are being formed on both sides… We'll see how that goes.

Don't forget to check The Fictionators (www (dot) fictionators (dot) com) for a teacher of Ch. 9 on Monday.

Also, thanks so much for all of the well-wishes about my coming novel. If you'd like to hear more about what's it's going to be about, you can see a brief synopsis at my new website –** www (dot) TMFranklin (dot) com**. I'll also be blogging a bit about the publishing process as it moves along. You can also get updates on Twitter at **(at)TM_Franklin** and I'm on Facebook at **www (dot) Facebook (dot) com/TMFranklinAuthor**.

See you Tuesday!


	9. Chapter 9: Truth Revealed

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **I'm sorry I didn't get to reply to reviews this week. Please know that I did read them all and really appreciate you taking the time to share your thoughts.

As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I had hoped to be nearing the Spanish colonies by now, but a vicious early winter storm has thwarted my attempts. Instead, I find myself snowbound, anxiously awaiting the warmer weather that will allow me to travel.<strong>_

_**My only consolation is the storm has also delayed my competitors in this venture. I received word today that the expedition's ship was forced to take refuge on a small island off the coast of Spain. **_

_**So as I must wait, they must also.**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 1 November, 1665**_

**Chapter 9: Truth Revealed**

"You're a liar!" Bella jumped to her feet and slammed her hands on the table. The dishes clattered, a bit of rum sloshing over the rim of Edward's tankard. "My father was a good man. He was nothing like...like..."

"Like me?" Edward offered. Bella's face reddened in fury, and he felt a twinge of compassion. What he had to say couldn't have been easy to hear.

"I told you, Bella, I'll not lie to you," he said quietly. "But you are the one who asked me about your father. If you want to know the truth, you must listen."

He held her gaze for a moment, and slowly, she sank back into her chair. With a trembling hand, she lifted the tankard to her lips, choking slightly as she swallowed. She looked up at Edward expectantly.

"I came on board the _Arrow _when I was seventeen years old," he began. "I took a position as cabin boy under Captain Iron Sam Uley. I did a bit of everything – not unlike you," he said with a slight grin. "Over the next few years, I got to know the ship, the crew, worked a bit with the ship's carpenter, then the Gunner, and eventually worked my way up to mate."

Bella interrupted. "What does this have to do with my father?"

"Your father," he replied, "was Quartermaster of the _Arrow._"

At Bella's wide-eyed expression, he continued. "He _was_ a good man. You were right about that. He spoke often of the wife he lost and the beautiful daughter he had back on the mainland. Kept saying he was just saving his earnings so he could go home to her...to you."

Bella's eyes filled with tears, and her gaze dropped to the table as she fingered her necklace absently.

"The captain led us on a raid that promised a vast treasure," he said, his voice a low rumble as he relived the adventure. "We were to board at dawn, thinking to take them by surprise." He paused, taking a gulp of rum. "But they were ready for us. In fact, it was a cunningly laid trap. They were following us from a distance and attacked while we slept.

"I was still so young – barely twenty – and had yet to really prove myself in battle. But we all had to fight that night. The air was thick with smoke and screams...and the blood. Damn, there was so much blood."

Bella watched him with rapt attention, but it seemed he'd forgotten she was there.

"I spotted the captain on the far side of the deck, fighting against two men – sword in one hand, dagger in the other – but it wasn't a fair fight, and it was only a matter of time...

"He fell to the deck, and I was the only one nearby. They didn't see me coming. I'd never killed a man before." He paused, gaze lost in the distance, then he cleared his throat.

"I got one, and it was enough of a distraction for the captain to regain his footing and dispatch the other. By the time the fighting ended, we'd lost six men – including our first mate, Bootless Billy Black, Jacob's father. I myself was severely wounded in the fray." He touched his eye patch lightly.

He met her gaze. "In appreciation for saving his life, Captain Uley named me first mate once I'd recovered. But after that night, Charlie was never the same. He'd lost his taste for the sea, I suppose, or perhaps he was just tired of the killing.

"In any event, it was perhaps a year or so later that he got word that his sister had died. He left the ship, said he was going to live a normal life, that he would at least give that to his little girl. I never saw him again."

Bella wiped the tears from her cheeks, her mind swirling with questions. She opted for the one least likely to make her cry any more.

"And how did you become captain?"

Edward chuckled humorlessly. "A captain's life is rarely a long one, Smith," he said. "Iron Sam was shot in the leg and died of a fever shortly after your father left. The crew chose me as captain, and I've been serving as such for nigh on six years now."

Bella stood, slowly pacing across the room as she absorbed all she had heard. Edward watched her silently as she came to terms with the fact that her father was not the man she thought he was.

"I can't believe he lied to me," she murmured, half to herself, as she gazed out the porthole on the far side of the room. "All those years, and it was all a lie."

"Not all," Edward said. "He did love you, Bella. He wanted the best for you. He did what he thought he had to to provide for you. The rest was to protect you."

Bella snorted. "Protect me? It sounds like he was trying to protect himself."

"Our world is a dangerous one. You of all people should understand that now."

"I suppose." She sighed heavily. "It just...hurts. I thought I knew him better than anyone."

"You did," Edward assured her. "You knew the true Charlie Swan. The man he wanted to be."

Bella swiped at her cheeks again, squaring her shoulders before returning to sit across from Edward and take another sip of rum.

"You seem to be acquiring a taste for that," he said with a grin. "Perhaps we'll make a pirate of you yet."

She smiled, and Edward couldn't explain the rush of relief that swept through him at the small gesture.

"So," she said. "If you didn't kill my father, how did you come to possess his cutlass?"

Edward raised a brow. "First of all, it's _my _cutlass," he pointed out. She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. "As for how it came into my possession, I liberated it from the man I believe killed your father."

Sufficiently distracted from true ownership of the sword, she asked, "And you still won't tell me who that is?"

Edward looked down at his plate with a frown. His instincts warred within him. On the one hand, he hesitated to reveal too much to her, not so much because he feared she would go off on her own. Surely by now she realized that her best chance to find her father's killer lay with him.

No, his concern was more about revealing too much about himself. Aside from Whitlock and, of course, Alice, no one knew what drove him. Why he was who he was – had become who he'd become.

"I think we've moved beyond secrets, don't you think, Captain?" she added. "If you want me to trust you, perhaps it's time you did the same."

Perhaps just a little. Perhaps he could tell her just a bit, for Charlie's sake. And then maybe, just maybe, she would trust him enough to provide some information of her own.

So with a deep breath, he looked up at her. "His name is Aro," he said. "He's called Aro the Merciless. He is the one who killed your father. The one who took my eye." He touched his patch lightly. "And he is the one who will pay."

Bella held his gaze for a moment before nodding once. "All right then," she said.

Abruptly, Edward shoved away from the table. "I'm needed on deck," he said, slipping into his coat and waving at the table. "Be sure and clean this up, Smith, and then see to my boots." He smirked slightly. "No need to concern yourself with the chamber pot."

Bella fought a grin. "Aye, Captain."

He hesitated, like he was going to say something more, then turned about and stalked from the room without another word.

~0~

She knew there was more to it, of course. Bella was adept enough at reading people to know that Cullen spoke the truth about Aro – _Aro the_ _Merciless_, of course he would have a name like that – but he still held back from telling her everything.

It was all right. Bella could be patient.

Or...

Her eyes flitted from the closed door to Cullen's desk and back again.

Perhaps she didn't have to be patient.

She stood and walked to the door, pressing her ear against it and listening intently before sliding the bolt home. She'd have a difficult time explaining why it was locked but didn't dare risk someone walking in on her.

She could always say she was dressing, she supposed.

Bella's heart raced, and she swallowed a lump of guilt as she moved to the desk. True, Edward had shown trust in her by telling her what he had done, but she didn't entirely trust _him_, and she didn't like going into something without all of the information possible. Surely, that was enough to justify her snooping?

She shook her head irritably. Why was she worrying about, of all things, Cullen's feelings? He was a bloody pirate, had her working as his servant, and if they were to be allied in this endeavor, she deserved to know what it was all about. Really, _he _should be the one feeling guilty if he was keeping something from her.

And she _knew _he was keeping something from her.

She flipped through the papers on top of the desk and, finding nothing of import, began to rifle through the drawers. When she came to the bottom one and found it locked, a surge of excitement rushed through her. Bella looked around the room, spotting the dirk she'd kept in her boot lying next to her cot. She retrieved it, working it into the lock gingerly and wiggling it about.

She'd just about given up hope when she heard a low click, and the drawer slid open. The sight of the chest from the _Enchanted Lady_ put a victorious smile on her face, and she lifted it out carefully, along with a thick leather-bound book. With another quick glance at the door, she opened the chest, biting her lip as she examined the items inside: a hair comb, some coins, an emerald necklace, and a carved wooden cross. She held the smooth wood in her hand, examining the engraving running the length of it.

_Latin_, she thought, although she had no idea what it said.

More confused than ever, she placed the items carefully back into the chest and closed it. Why would Cullen be so possessive of a chest holding only a few trinkets? Although pretty, they really held very little value when compared to the rest of the booty they'd retrieved from the _Lady. _Yet it had to be important somehow.

Frowning, she turned to the book, running her hand over the worn leather cover. She sat down in Cullen's chair and opened it to the first page.

_Simon Alistair Mellick_

_15 Kipling Street, Southwark, London_

The address was scratched out, and underneath was added: _Parts Unknown._

She read a bit and quickly ascertained that it was a journal belonging to a tradesman in London in the mid-1660s. She still did not understand why Cullen would keep it under lock and key, however. Scanning the pages absently and reading snippets here and there, she'd almost given up on finding anything of use. This Mellick seemed to have been a relatively boring man, his entries bland descriptions of day-to-day life, along with rather sad yearnings for something more. Apparently, he'd come to the Colonies at some point to start a new life.

Bella almost missed the drawing at first, just catching a brief glimpse as she flipped through the pages. She turned back quickly, mouth gaping open in shock at the rendering of her father's cutlass.

It couldn't be.

At first, Bella feared she was being fanciful, so she sprang to her feet to retrieve the cutlass from the shelf behind Cullen's desk to compare it to the sketch. Sure enough, it was identical, even to the intricate details on the cupped knuckle guard. Her gaze darted between the drawing and the cutlass, unable to believe what she was seeing. A second sketch depicted the top of the hilt, every facet of the sapphire true to life, and even the engraved words circling the gem proved an accurate rendering. Heart pounding, she quickly read through the entry on the page below the drawing, disappointment warring with confusion when she found no reference to the sword.

She read through it again, just to be sure, but Simon Mellick, whoever he was, simply went on and on about the purchase of some kind of puzzle box to add to a collection that had been handed down from his father. Bella explored the entries on the pages before and after the drawing, but found no mention of it. She glanced nervously at the door, aware that it was only a matter of time before Cullen became curious about her absence on deck, expecting her to appear at any moment to do his bidding. Bella flipped through the pages quickly, scanning them as the cutlass lay cool and heavy across her lap.

She'd just about given up when she noticed a loose page near the back of the book. The ragged edge proved it had been torn out at some point, but then tucked back into place. Her eyes widened when the word "sword" all but jumped off the page at her.

_The sword will lead the way._

Confused, her eyes lifted to the beginning of the entry, the words whispering through her lips as she read.

_Pay heed to the Word_

'_Twill guide you forth_

_A coin to give sight_

_A cup to satisfy your thirst_

_A key for the lock_

_Then cross the bridge to bridge the gap_

_And when the light emerges from Aphrodite's kiss_

_The sword will lead the way_

Bella read it through three times, but the words were no clearer. Was it some kind of poem? A code? Did it really have anything to do with the cutlass at all? Her gaze dropped to the sword in her lap, and she ran her fingers over the hilt gently, her eyes lighting on the engraving around the sapphire.

_And God said, "Let there be light, and there was light." _

Her father had translated it for her shortly before...

Light.

_And when the light emerges..._

_Let there be light..._

It had to be more than a coincidence, didn't it?

With a determination founded in instinct more than knowledge, she shuffled through Cullen's desk until she found a scrap of paper, then quickly copied the poem and tucked it into her pocket. She replaced the journal and the chest in the bottom desk drawer and set the cutlass back on the shelf, touching it once more reverently before turning to gather the items to polish Cullen's spare boots.

She knew Cullen was keeping things from her, and she couldn't help but think that this Mellick's journal, and the rather obscure entry referring to the sword, had something to do with it. There was a reason the cutlass was so important to him, and she believed she'd just gotten the clue as to what it was.

Of course, even having known the captain only a short time, she'd learned there were only three things that truly motivated him - pleasure, vengeance, and treasure - and he generally got the first from the latter two.

_The sword will lead the way._

Lead the way to what? Aro? Treasure?

Bella found that either one would give _her _pleasure.

That night, she hid the scrap of paper under her pillow, certain it was the key to something important.

Early the next morning, Bella woke to find Cullen already up and gone. After dressing quickly, she tucked the poem into her pocket, then stripped his bed, stuffing the soiled linens into the empty washtub. She made her way to the door, heading down the dim hallway toward the stairs, and as she made her way on deck, she spotted Cullen by the wheel, his gaze darting to light on hers. His shoulders relaxed a bit, as if he'd been searching for her.

_Odd._

She set the washtub down and slipped her hand into her pocket, fingering the scrap of paper lightly. Cullen may have had his secrets, but Bella felt confident she could discover them in time. If not, she would simply have to convince him to reveal them.

She hazarded one more glance over her shoulder to find Cullen watching her, brow raised in curiosity. She just shrugged and turned back to her laundry.

Cullen could wonder what _she _was up to for a change. It seemed only fitting.

In the meantime, she would try to untangle the mystery surrounding the sword herself.

~0~

She was up to something.

Edward watched Bella scrub his bedsheets, studiously avoiding looking his direction, and he could tell she was up to no good. She wrung out the last bit of linen, then stood to clip it to a makeshift clothesline strung across a small section of the deck. She caught his gaze and looked away quickly, biting her lip as she dumped the wash water over the side of the ship.

If he were to be completely honest, the woman confounded him. He knew he'd destroyed some of the illusions she'd had about her father when he told her about his past, yet she handled it all with grace and noticeably few tears. She seemed to trust him, at least to a certain extent, but the next moment she refused to meet his gaze, and he knew she was hiding something.

He wondered if it had something to do with Charlie.

He hadn't known that Aro had stolen the cutlass from Charlie when he in turn had stolen it from him. When Edward learned that little fact, a short while later, he'd been surprised. Charlie had been adamant about living a "normal life", and Edward doubted he could be lured back to his former activities, no matter what the temptation. He thought Charlie had been above a weakness such as greed.

Apparently, he thought wrong.

Of course, during the long weeks at sea, the two had often passed the time speculating about the legend of Mellick's Gold, but he'd been under the impression that Charlie thought it a myth, a fancy. Unlike Edward, who knew it to be real.

And he knew that Aro did as well.

Eyeing Bella's flush as she dried her hands, he suspected that he was right about her – that perhaps Charlie had told her something more about the cutlass than she was letting on. He wondered just how much. Deciding he would try to find out, he followed her as she lugged the washtub back belowdecks, catching the door to his quarters before she could close it behind her.

She jumped, hand flying to her throat as the tub clattered to the floor. "You startled me!"

"A bit jumpy, are we, Smith?" he asked, stepping by her to sit at his desk. "Why so nervous?"

She sniffed, bending to pick up the tub and put it away. "I'm not nervous. Why are _you_ skulking about like a criminal? Oh, wait..." She held up a finger. "You _are _a criminal."

Edward gave her an impassive look. "Hilarious."

Bella smirked and began to tidy up a pile of books near the bed. Edward watched her for a moment, then turned his attention to the mess of papers on his desk. He scanned one absently and frowned in confusion when he spotted Bella's dirk half-hidden beneath a manifest. Suspicion bloomed, and he picked up the dirk, tapping the point on the tip of his finger as he waited for her to notice.

Eventually, she glanced at him and her eyes widened before flickering away nervously, throat working as she gulped. She fiddled with an arrangement of chess pieces, dusting around them with a cloth and pointedly not looking in his direction again.

"Smith?"

Bella cleared her throat but didn't turn around, completely focused on dusting the white queen. "Yes?"

"Is there a reason your dirk is on my desk?"

"Is it?" she asked, trading the queen for a rook. "That's odd."

"Hmm...indeed." His sharp gaze drifted over the desktop as he toyed with the dirk, scanning the scattered papers idly before opening the top drawer. He glanced down, and his eye narrowed as he spotted the bottom drawer – the bottom drawer that had been decidedly _locked_ when he'd last left it.

The drawer that wasn't quite _closed_ now.

With his eye on Bella, he slipped the dirk into the crack at the top of the drawer and pulled it open. He spotted the hunch of her shoulders as the wood scraped along the edges, and he took a deep breath to control his temper.

"It appears you've been busy, Smith," he said, voice deadly quiet. _How much had she seen? How much had she understood?_

"Well...you know...a lot to do," she replied brightly, picking up a bishop and fumbling with it before dropping it on the floor.

"Smith," he snapped. "Forget about the chess board. What did you hope to accomplish by snooping in my desk?"

He half expected her to deny it, so he almost jumped in surprise when she whirled around in fury.

"I wouldn't _have_ to snoop if you didn't hide things from me!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Don't you play innocent!" she exclaimed, waving her dusting cloth, the chess pieces forgotten. "Who is Simon Mellick, and what does he have to do with my father's cutlass?"

"It's _my_ cutlass," he muttered in reflex.

Bella rolled her eyes, fists propped on her hips. "Don't try to distract me. There is more going on here than revenge, and I think I deserve to know what it is!"

Edward glared at her. "You _deserve_?" he growled. "You sneak onto my ship, try to murder me, steal my cutlass...then I have to risk the lives of myself _and _my crew to rescue you from Hunter – and you dare to say you _deserve_ anything from me?"

Bella opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off. "You should count yourself lucky that I don't just throw you overboard."

They locked furious gazes for a long moment, both breathing harshly. Then, to Edward's surprise, Bella asked, "Why don't you?"

Edward blinked. "Why don't I what?"

She shrugged. "You keep saying you're going to throw me in the brig or leave me on an island...now throw me overboard, but you don't. It's almost like..." Her eyes narrowed. "You _want _something from me."

"You're out of your-"

"But what is it?" she mused, half to herself. "You already have the cutlass – although I do still plan to remedy that – so what?"

Bella eyed him carefully, and he fought to meet her gaze. He could see the moment she put it together.

"It's not me, is it?" she said finally. "It's my father. Whatever you're after, you think my father knew something about it. So you're keeping me around in the hopes that he told it to me."

Edward thought about denying it, contemplated storming out in a rage – possibly even following through on his threat to throw her in chains. Instead, he opted for the more direct route. Perhaps it was time for both of them to place their cards on the table.

"Yes," he said.

A victorious smile crossed Bella's lips as she folder her arms over her chest. "And what makes you think I would tell you anything?"

Edward raised a brow, then reached down to retrieve the chest and journal from the bottom drawer and set them before him.

"There are a few reasons," he said matter-of-factly as he opened the chest, taking out each item and lining them up on his desk. "First, you're curious about all of this. You're practically drooling with anticipation of getting some answers." He flashed her a challenging look as she opened her mouth to speak. "Don't try to deny it."

She didn't.

"Second, you want to know more about your father. The parts he kept hidden from you. The true reason my name was the last word to pass his lips."

"Which was?"

Edward leaned back in his chair, eyeing her carefully. "Who is to know for certain? Perhaps because he knew of my own grudge against Aro and sought his own vengeance."

Bella frowned. "Perhaps," she said noncommittally.

He continued, ticking the numbers off on his fingers. "Third, all of this will play a big part in making Aro pay for everything he's done, and I _know_ you're interested in that."

She didn't soften. "Is that all?"

Edward smirked. "Well, there is one more thing." He paused for effect and almost burst out laughing as she leaned forward slightly in anticipation. "But I think you already know what it is."

Bella's lips quirked slightly. "It's treasure, isn't it?"

Edward grinned in response. "Aye, Smith. And it's a big one."

~0~

More than a thousand nautical miles south-southeast, at His Majesty's Antigua Naval Yard at English Harbour, Commodore James Hunter paced along the dock, a frown on his face. The young informant, who'd come in with the most recent vessel, relayed his message with frantic sincerity.

"And you're certain of this?" Hunter asked, fixing the lad with a glare that emphasized inaccuracy would not be tolerated.

"Yes, Sir," the boy said. "Cullen's bound north toward the Colonies."

Hunter rubbed his chin thoughtfully. By now, the pirate could be as far as Florida if the wind was with him. And the wind always seemed to be with One-Eyed Eddie. It was the only explanation the commodore had for the bastard's ability to evade him at every turn.

Hunter flipped the boy a gold coin and turned on his heel to stride toward the _Intrepid_, the crew busily loading up supplies and making minor repairs to the hull. He spotted Lieutenant Cameron peering over the starboard bow.

"Ready the ship!" Hunter yelled. "We sail in an hour."

"An hour, Sir?" he replied. "But we've yet to finish repairs."

"They'll have to wait." Hunter crossed the gangplank at a near run, jumping to the deck without missing a step. "I've received word of Cullen's location."

The lieutenant just nodded, knowing the commodore's rather single-minded obsession when it came to the pirate. "I'll send Barley to retrieve the crew. We'll be ready in an hour."

Hunter just issued a curt nod in response and turned to bark orders to the men loading supplies. He watched with a satisfied smile as they quickened their efforts. Yes, Cullen had a head start, but if he was indeed sailing for the Colonies, then Hunter knew where he was going. With any luck, this time he'd finally catch One-Eyed Eddie unawares.

The commodore raised his face to the brisk wind, inhaling deeply.

The chase was on.


	10. Chapter 10: Land Ho!

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **So sorry I failed at review replies again. Real life has been busier than usual lately, but please know I do appreciate all of your comments. If you want to ask a question, feel free to PM (I'll answer as long as it's not a spoiler) or hit me up on Twitter (Tkegl) and I'd love to chat.

As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The cold is everywhere, seeping through the cracks and crevices and into my very bones. As far as I can see, the world is a blanket of icy white, frigid and crackling ominously. <strong>_

_**The only thing that keeps me warm is the hope of fulfilling my mission. **_

_**And Mary, the innkeeper's daughter, a woman so fair she would make the angels weep. I would have her for my own if she would take me.**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 16 November, 1665**_

**Chapter 10: Land Ho!**

Bella couldn't ignore the thrill of excitement that ran through her at the word.

_Treasure._

She didn't consider herself overly materialistic or greedy. Really, she'd always had enough to live comfortably, if not extravagantly. That had all changed after her father's death, however. She'd been left with little except for their home in Boston and a small inheritance from her mother. She'd sold the house to pay for the investigator, and she'd all but exhausted the inheritance in the months of searching for Cullen.

So, she would have been lying if she said the idea of relieving her financial woes wasn't appealing.

Still, it wasn't just that.

"So when you say _big_," she asked, taking a tentative step closer, "just how _big _do you mean?"

Cullen smiled, waving at the chair across from him. "Why don't you sit down, Smith, and I'll tell you." She did as he suggested, too intrigued to argue, and he continued, "Have you not heard of Mellick's Gold?"

"No. No, I don't think so."

He leaned forward on the desk, tapping a finger on the leather-bound journal. "Did you read any of this?"

"A little."

"So you know Mellick was a tradesman in London about ninety years ago, an ordinary man, with a penchant for puzzles."

Bella nodded. "Yes, he mentioned a collection."

Edward leaned back in his chair. "Mellick overheard a conversation that led him to leave England and come to the New World, rumors of an expedition forming to seek a great treasure of Aztec gold. He set sail immediately."

"It seems a bit impulsive," Bella said, "to leave his home based on rumors."

Cullen shrugged. "He says in the journal he investigated it thoroughly, although he doesn't go into much more detail. Suffice it to say, he gathered enough information to warrant him joining the hunt, and he apparently left England a month before the expedition."

"Did he find the gold?" Bella asked, mesmerized.

"I believe he did," Edward replied. "In the Autumn of 1666, he alludes to that fact in his journal, but also that he feared it being stolen from him. He became quite paranoid, certain his enemies were close on his heels - including the men from whom he'd originally heard of the treasure.

"Which leads us back to the puzzles," he said.

"How so?"

"Mellick hid the treasure," he replied. "But he didn't write specifically where. He feared he would be murdered and if the journal fell into the wrong hands, his enemies would take the gold for themselves. He'd met and married a young woman shortly after he arrived in the Colonies, and she was with child. So, to protect his heir, he devised an elaborate puzzle that would have to be solved in order to find the gold."

"The poem," Bella mused. At Edward's curious look, she added, "In the back of the journal - _A coin... a cup...a key..."_

"Yes," Edward replied. "We've determined that the - poem, as you call it - points to the relics that need to be gathered in order to solve the puzzle."

"We?"

"Me, Charlie...Aro," he explained. "I've been on a race against Aro to find the items ever since."

"Wait. I don't understand something." Bella said, shaking her head. "If the journal was intended for Mellick's child, how did you get it? And why didn't _he _keep all of these relics?"

"He died before he got a chance," Edward explained. "Consumption. His wife as well, a short time later. The child was never born, and with a lack of heirs, all of his belongings went to a distant cousin back in London.

"The man was undergoing financial troubles of his own, so he opted to sell all of Mellick's property in the Colonies rather than spare the expense to have it shipped overseas. The relics were scattered to the winds, and it was only by chance that the journal came into my father's possession, and eventually to mine. It, along with the contents of Mellick's library, ended up in a book shop in Charles Towne. My father is a collector, and had also heard the legend of Mellick's gold. When he found the journal, he knew it would prove invaluable."

He paused, his gaze intent. "Aro thought so too. When he learned I had the journal, he determined to acquire it. It was he who set the trap for my crew those years again, he who took my eye and left me for dead. All in a plot to get the journal."

"But he failed."

"Thanks only to Jasper," he replied. "He managed to wound Aro and get the rest of the crew away safely. He saved my life."

Bella breathed deeply, absorbing all she had heard. "So..." she said, swallowing thickly. "Aro killed my father for the cutlass?"

"I believe so. He will stop at nothing."

Bella eyed him carefully. "And you? Will you also stop at nothing?"

Edward looked away for a moment, then said in a low voice. "I want the treasure, but despite what you may have heard about me, I am not in the habit of killing innocent people."

He turned to look her in the eye. "Aro, however, is far from innocent."

Bella nodded, then dropped her gaze at his intensity.

"So you - _we_," she corrected, "have the cutlass. What about the rest?" She noticed Edward didn't challenge the _we._

"This." He held up the pendant. "I believe to be the _key for the door." _

Bella reached for the jewelry, turning it in her hand. "It's just a locket." She prised at one edge and it popped open. "There's not even anything inside it. How can it be a key?"

Edward flipped through the journal to the page with the drawing of the locket, and showed her where Mellick had identified it as _The Key_.

Bella frowned. "So, you have the key. The cutlass, I assume, is the sword that will lead the way. What about the cup and the coin?" She leaned forward to lay down the locket and pick up one of the coins from the chest. "Is it one of these?"

"I don't think so," Edward replied, taking it from her and examining it closely. "These are just ordinary coins. I think we're looking for something special."

"Special how?"

"Good question."

"And the cup?"

With a heavy sigh, Edward placed the items back in the chest. "I don't know. It's possible Aro has it. I have no information about it."

Bella was beginning to wonder if there was anything about this so-called treasure that Edward _did _know for certain.

"And once you retrieve all of these relics, what then?" she asked.

"It's not just the relics," Edward replied. "There is also a map. Aro is in possession of half of it, but the other half is missing. I believe the map will direct us how to use the relics."

Bella blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. "It seems this Mellick was more than careful. Given the intricacy of this puzzle of his, I'd hazard to call him downright paranoid. How are we ever to decipher what this all means?"

Edward's mouth curved in a sly smile. "Well, that's part of the challenge, Smith. Nobody ever said treasure hunting was a simple venture. Regardless, that is why we're headed to South Carolina." He hesitated, watching her reaction. "There is...a _seer_ there who I hope will put us on the right path."

Bella barked out a laugh. "A seer? Surely you don't put faith in such nonsense!"

Edward grimaced slightly. "Do not mock what you do not know, Smith. It may sound like nonsense, but it's been proven to me too many times for me to be contemptuous."

"Contemptuous?" Bella stiffened. "I wasn't being contemptuous. Just...skeptical."

Edward stood abruptly, leaning forward over his desk. "It matters not. We are going to Charles Towne. Unless, that is, you have a better idea?"

Bella frowned, but could not come up with an alternative plan. "Fine," she muttered. "But I want to study the journal on the way. Perhaps I'll find a more logical plan of action."

"Very well," Edward said, placing the journal and chest back in the drawer, then pointedly reaching for the key hidden in the cup on the shelf. "I'd prefer you not use the dirk again," he explained. "I'd like to save the lock."

Bella flushed and nodded.

Edward straightened after locking the drawer and returning the key to the cup. "Now, Smith, I think it's time you share some information yourself."

Bella raised a brow. She knew he wanted something from her. "What kind of information?"

"As you said," he replied, "I want to know what your father said about any of this. Did he tell you where he got the cutlass?"

Bella exhaled in frustration. "He told me it was a gift from his commanding officer – a lie, of course. I didn't understand why he kept it locked away instead of on display, but it makes perfect sense, now."

Edward ran his hands over his face, an aggravated growl low in his throat. "I didn't even know he was looking for it," he muttered. "He seemed to doubt the existence of the treasure as fancy."

"Apparently, I wasn't the only one he lied to," Bella added bitterly.

Edward began to pace. "So, he didn't tell you about Mellick, but perhaps he mentioned the cup or the coin? Or even how to find the missing half of the map?"

She shook her head, "He never said anything-"

"Think!" Edward interrupted. "Maybe you know something and you don't even know you know it. Did he keep a journal himself? Or perhaps you have correspondence. He might have been working with someone." He stood, his chair sliding back as he began to pace. "Did he have a lockbox? A place he kept important items?"

"No, nothing..."

"There has to be something!" he snapped. He paused, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to stay calm. Bella actually felt a bit guilty. He'd shared so much information with her, and she really had nothing to share in return.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I went through everything thoroughly when I sold our home. There was nothing. No mention of treasure or cups or maps. If my father knew anything, he didn't keep a record of it."

Edward sat back down, running his hands over his face in defeat. For a moment, Bella began to worry. If she had nothing to offer, would Cullen abandon her? Would he finally follow through on his threats now that he had no reason to keep her around?

Then she realized, he couldn't.

Because he'd told her his secrets. And in order to keep _them_, he'd have to keep _her_.

Apparently, Edward had reached the same conclusion, because he fixed her with a piercing gaze. "Whitlock is the only person outside this room who knows what I've told you," he said, voice tense and warning. "I intend to keep it that way."

"Of course."

"If I learn you've spoken of this to anyone else-"

"You won't."

His stare burned into her, and she leaned toward him. "I promise, Edward. I won't tell a soul. You can trust me."

At that, he blinked and looked away. "I don't trust anyone."

"You trust Jasper."

"Yes, well...he's earned it."

"I will too," Bella said lightly, trying to break the uncomfortable tension. "I'll solve the puzzle and lead you to the treasure."

Edward smirked, glancing at her sideways. "Just like that?"

She grinned. "Just like that," she said. "You'll find I'm very useful."

With that, Edward leered, his gaze drifting over her slowly. "Aye, I'm certain you are."

Bella snorted, rolling her eyes. "Of course, just when I start to actually like you, you find it necessary to revert to being a barbarian."

He wiggled his eyebrows. "You like me?"

"Not anymore." She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest

Cullen barked out a laugh. "Oh, Smith, I think you do," he said, standing to round the desk. "You know, if you're ready to renegotiate our arrangement..." He glanced pointedly toward the bed.

Bella just laughed, too amused to be offended. "No, thank you."

"No?" He raised a brow, stepping toward her. Bella's stomach flipped.

"No," she said, voice cracking.

Edward's smile grew as he leaned over her chair. Bella froze as his cheek brushed hers and his lips grazed her ear, warm breath eliciting an uncontrollable shiver.

"If you change your mind," he whispered, "you know where to find me." She gasped as he stood abruptly and turned to leave the room. His low chuckle echoed down the hallway as he made his way to the deck, and it wasn't until the sound faded that Bella's breath steadied.

She swallowed, head spinning slightly. Cullen flustered her, and she was not used to being flustered. She didn't like it, at all.

She was beginning to wonder if perhaps she just might be a little bit out of her depth when it came to Edward Cullen.

~0~

Edward kept an eye on her for the rest of the voyage and enlisted Jasper to do the same, but Bella was true to her word and said nothing about the treasure to anyone else. Not that there was anyone on board she was friendly with anyway.

Except Jacob Black, of course. Edward frowned at the man as he stood near the bow, arms crossed. He had no doubt that Black was an honorable man, but he didn't want anyone to know his business unless it was absolutely necessary. And at the moment, it wasn't necessary.

Jasper, however, had ears all over the ship, and Edward was relatively certain that Bella had not breathed a word of the treasure to even Black. Apparently, the idea of vengeance, along with her own share of the treasure, was enough to keep her quiet.

Edward smirked. At least something was.

He reached into his pocket for his spyglass, lifting it to his eye. The coast was barely visible in the distance as the sun sank below the horizon.

South Carolina. Home.

"Whitlock!" he called, his first mate appearing at his side almost instantly. "We set off at dark. I want to be on shore before the moon rises too high and gives us away."

"Aye, Captain."

He turned to walk with Whitlock toward the bow. "Instruct Crowley to move the ship further out into open waters as soon as we're away. We will rendezvous again tomorrow night after sundown."

"Aye," Jasper said again. "Captain, there is the matter of Miss Swan."

"What of her?" he asked, distracted by the crewmen adjusting the mainsail. "Look alive, men!" he shouted. "If ye damage the sail and we're unable to evade the Crown, we'll all be dancin' the hempen jig!"

A chorus of "Aye, Sir!" rang out in response, but Jasper leaned in, catching his eye. "She means to come along."

"What? Who?" Edward asked irritably.

"The wench." Jasper fought to keep from rolling his eyes. "Miss Swan. She means to go ashore with us."

Edward gaped for a moment, then burst out laughing. "You're jesting with me."

"'Tis no joke," Jasper replied. "She told me she wants to hear from the seer herself." His cheeks flushed slightly at the mention of Alice, but Edward ignored it.

"Of course she does," he grumbled. "Where is she?"

"In your quarters, I believe."

"Ready the dinghy. I'll only be a moment." Edward turned on his heel and stalked belowdecks, bursting into his room without warning. Bella jumped in surprise, a small bag at her feet. Edward noticed the journal peeking out of the top.

"And what exactly are you about now, Smith?" He grabbed the bag and rifled through it, finding the chest tucked in the bottom amidst some spare underthings.

"Give me that!" she snapped, a flush stealing up her neck as she ripped the bag from his fingers and dropped it on the chair behind her. "I just thought you'd like to bring them along. I assumed the seer-"

"Yes, well, it appears you assume quite a bit," Edward retorted. "What is this I hear? You actually think you're going ashore?"

Bella bristled. "Well, of course I am. I want to hear what this seer has to say."

"You'll do no such thing!" he growled. "It's utterly preposterous. You'll stay on board where you belong."

She stared at him blankly. For a moment, Edward wondered if she was going to explode, or burst into tears. To his surprise, she did neither.

"Utterly preposterous?" she repeated slowly, mimicking him. "Not a very pirate-like, Captain. You're doing it again."

He glared at her. "Doing what, for heaven's sake?"

She shook a finger at him, her eyes narrowing in concentration. "You know what? I believe it happens whenever you're annoyed with me."

"Well then _it_ should happen a lot," he mumbled. "Now, what on earth are you on about?"

"Your accent," she replied, spreading her hands palm up like the words explained everything. "It changes when you're particularly irritated, it seems."

"I have absolutely no idea-" he began, cutting off abruptly and clearing his throat. "Yer daft, wench."

Bella bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Am I?"

A knock at the door interrupted the rather strange conversation, and Captain Cullen snapped, "What?" while attempting not to appear relieved. Jasper poked his head into the room, eyeing them both warily.

"It's time, Captain," he said.

Edward nodded. "Aye. Good." When Bella bent to pick up her bag, he added, "You are _not_ accompanying us."

"Oh, yes I _am_."

"No. You're _not_."

Jasper watched the two of them with amusement, eyes darting back and forth.

"Look," Bella said, dropping her bag on the floor and planting her fists on her hips as she fixed Edward with a determined glare. "We can go back and forth like this all night. You can forbid me to come aboard, 'Ye'll do what I say, wench' and all that nonsense..."

"It isn't nonsense!"

Bella continued without stopping. "But we both know it won't do a bit of good. If you leave me here, I will find a way to get off this ship. If you tie me up in the hold I'll escape somehow and steal a dinghy and row myself ashore. I'll _swim _if I have to. You know I will." She leaned forward, and Edward wondered if she was standing on her tiptoes to appear a bit taller.

"So let's just skip all of this ridiculous arguing and be on our way, shall we?" she said with a beatific smile, picking the bag up again and throwing it over her shoulder. "We're wasting time." And with that, she flounced past both men and headed up to the deck.

Edward stood motionless for a moment, trying to determine when exactly he had lost control of the situation. He realized his mouth hung open and snapped it shut with a click before turning toward the door. He glared fiercely at Jasper, whose eyes danced with merriment.

"Not a word," Edward warned. "Unless _you_ would like to be the one tied up in the hold."

"But then who would row the boat?" he asked. At Edward's growl, he held up his hands in defense, then offered a small salute. "Not a word. Aye, Captain."

Edward stormed past him and up to the deck. He spotted Bella chatting quietly with Jacob and an inexplicable rush of anger swept through him. He stalked over to her and grabbed her arm roughly.

"If you insist on going, I'll not have you delaying us," he said with a scowl.

Bella just smiled and let him drag her away.

~0~

Gentle waves rocked the dinghy as the small landing party made its way ashore in the darkness. Bella sat across from Jasper and Edward, gripping the wooden bench tightly on either side of her, a bubble of excitement tickling in her stomach. It just felt good to be doing _something_ other than laundry and cleaning, something to find her father's killer.

Then there was the treasure, of course. And the strange puzzle they'd have to solve in order to find it. Bella couldn't believe how her life had changed in the past year. Living with pirates, searching for treasure...it was like something out of a bedtime story.

She didn't speak – warned repeatedly by Edward that they must be quiet and stealthy to avoid detection – but just stared silently at the shadows of the captain and his first mate pulling the oars in a slow, steady rhythm. A glance over her shoulder revealed nothing, the _Black Arrow_ already heading farther out to the open sea, and Bella turned back to look past Edward and Jasper, eyes searching for the shoreline.

She couldn't make out anything in the darkness.

Then, just when Bella thought they'd perhaps turned around and were headed the wrong direction, she began to discern the lights of a city in the distance. Her eyes scanned the horizon, and she realized they had entered a harbor, surrounded by the dark shadow of land all around them. She could just make out rows of masts along the edge of the water, dozens of ships docked overnight at the busy trade center.

They rowed to the west of the lights, apparently aiming for a covert landing. Eventually, the boat slid in the muck along the bottom, and Jasper and Edward pulled the oars up, tucking them into the boat before slipping quietly into the water and tugging the dinghy closer to shore. Their boots squelched in the marshy sludge as Bella watched them, looking up and down the darkened beach, before Edward waved her forward impatiently. She stood carefully, tucking her bag under her arm, and picked her way over the benches to the front of the boat, peering doubtfully into the black water. Jasper held out a hand to help her down, but just as Bella reached for him, bracing herself to wade through the marsh, Edward gave an exasperated huff, and swept her up in his arms. Bella clung to him as he strode through the shallow water and set her down none-too-gently on the muddy beach before returning to help Jasper pull the dinghy up the shore and hide it in the trees and underbrush.

The three set off at a fast pace, ducking through the forest, and across mud, then sand. Bella struggled to keep up, finally gathering her skirts into one hand so she could move more freely. They neared a small creek and Edward turned back toward her, catching her in a firm grip and making it across in a half-dozen steps. He stepped back onto dry land, and Bella swore his arms tightened around her slightly before he set her back down - a bit more gently this time.

After a while, they neared the walled city, making their way over one drawbridge, then another.

"Walk calmly, and don't attract attention," Edward ordered, pulling back his long hair and tying it tightly with a leather thong, then pulling his hat down low over his face to hide his patch. He reached for Bella's hand and tugged it though his bent elbow.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, trying to pull her arm away.

"Come now, Smith," he said with a chuckle. "Now's not the time to be shy. We'll be far less suspicious as a young couple out for an evening stroll...with a proper chaperone, of course."

Jasper snorted. "I assume that would be me."

"Give Jasper the bag and try to act like you like me," Edward said, patting at her clenched fists. "And relax, for heaven's sake. People will think I'm a rogue holding you captive against your will!"

Despite herself, Bella giggled, the excitement making her a bit hysterical. "Well, we can't have that, can we?" She handed Jasper her bag and squared her shoulders. "Let's go, then."

"Are you certain we shouldn't try to go around the city?" Jasper asked quietly as they drew nearer, the sounds of music and laughter drifting to them.

"No time," Edward replied grimly. "This is the most direct route."

Bella had never been to Charles Towne, and after this visit, she really couldn't alter that statement. Edward kept up a steady pace, but there was no time to dawdle, no time to explore the shops lined up along the street, not that many were open at this time of evening. A commotion broke out before them, a group of raucous men forcibly evicted from a tavern, and Jasper and Edward exchanged a glance before they crossed the street and continued on their way.

Surprisingly, no one paid them much attention, but Bella grew increasingly concerned about the high wall surrounding the city borders, and quietly asked Edward how they'd get through it.

"Have a little faith, Smith," he said with a grin.

He glanced over his shoulder before tugging her into the darkness between two houses, They approached the wall, and Edward scanned it carefully.

"Over here," Jasper called from a short distance away. They hurried to meet him at a spot in the wall that was apparently under repairs. The fallen bricks had been cleared away and stacked nearby.

"Hurricane," Edward explained. "We're fortunate the treaty talks have been successful, or no doubt this would have been guarded."

"How did you even know it was here?"

Edward grinned. "Oh, I have eyes and ears everywhere, Smith. Don't you forget that."

Bella couldn't help smiling back as they made their way through the narrow opening and across the nearly-dry ditch on the other side. With one last look back, they left the sights and sounds of civilization behind them.

"Where exactly are we going?" Bella asked, noticing she was still holding Edward's arm. She pulled away with a jolt, cheeks coloring hotly. He frowned at her, but answered the question.

"Not much farther," he said. "Just past HampStead Hill near the northern mouth of Town Creek."

Bella blinked, enlightened not a whit by that. "Of course," she muttered. "Thank you for the information."

Edward ignored the sarcasm, instead turning to Jasper. "We'll need to secure horses for the journey back. I don't want the _Arrow_ close to shore any longer than absolutely necessary."

"Aye," Jasper replied. "I'll talk to the stable lad when we arrive."

They turned down a long, winding drive, dust kicking up around them as they walked. Edward quickened his pace. "It's just around the bend."

Bella felt a mix of relief and anticipation that they had almost reached their destination. As they rounded the corner, the moon came out from behind a cloud, casting their surroundings in an eerie glow and Bella noticed the drive was lined by evenly-spaced trees, leaves rustling in the slight breeze. Finally, she spotted a sprawling house at the end of the drive, and her breath caught.

It was beautiful. And even in the dim light, she could tell it was enormous.

White columns gleamed in the moonlight, supporting a pediment overhanging the front entry. The two-story home appeared to be made of brick, although it was difficult to tell for certain. Warm light poured from the multitude of windows, and the glow made the house seem almost magical, a fairy tale come to life. She could imagine a deposed duchess living out her days in seclusion there, surrounded only by her prized horses and a fat cat or two.

Then, as they drew nearer, the front door opened, and a young woman stepped out, carrying a lantern. Jasper's breath caught, and Edward muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

"Who is that?" Bella whispered, but no one answered as she strode toward them purposefully, stopping just in front of their little group. She wore a simple cream-colored gown and was smaller than Bella, but seemed larger somehow, her body almost vibrating with energy as she bounced on her toes. Her long black hair was caught back from her face, the ends blowing wildly in the breeze. Large, dark eyes dominated her delicate features and darted from one person to the next, absorbing every detail. As the woman's gaze focused on Bella, she tilted her head slightly, studying her. Bella fought the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. It felt like the woman could see straight through her, all of her secrets laid bare.

The woman giggled as though she knew Bella's thoughts. Then, with a soft cry she turned away and threw herself against Edward, wrapping the arm not holding the lantern around his neck.

Edward chuckled slightly and hugged her to him, his large hands spanning her back easily.

Bella watched the exchange with wide eyes, a strange and hot feeling curdling in her stomach. The woman pulled back, looking up at Edward with a slight grin.

"You're late," she said with a wink. She pulled away, lashes dipping slightly as she nodded to Jasper. "Mr. Whitlock."

He nodded back. "Miss Brandon."

Then, a most curious thing. She turned to Bella with a friendly smile. "And you must be Bella," she said. "I've been looking forward to meeting you."

Bella searched for a response, finally opting for a stammered, "Thank you?" that sounded more like a question. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her balance. She determined that this must be the seer Edward spoke about, and apparently the two were well-acquainted.

She couldn't explain why that thought made her just a little bit nauseous.

The woman laughed lightly, her head again tilting to the side. "Since Edward's time at sea has apparently robbed him of civilized manners, I suppose I should introduce myself," she said, casting him a reproachful glance. "I'm Alice Brandon." At that, Edward snorted, and Alice rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she muttered. "Alice Brandon _Cullen_."

It took Bella a moment to fully grasp what she'd said. "I'm sorry. Did you say Cullen?" she asked, turning to Edward, mouth gaping in shock. "This is…is this your _wife?_"

Alice burst out laughing, and even Jasper snorted a bit. Edward just looked scandalized, clearing he throat as lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. Bella could swear that even in the lamp light she could make out a slight flush of color on his cheeks.

"God, no. Not my wife," he said, not meeting Bella's eyes. "Smith, meet my sister."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Charleston was a fortified, walled city at the time of this story. The treaty talks Edward refers to happened in April and May of 1748 in an attempt to bring to an end the War of Austrian Succession (called King George's War in North America.) Although Charles Towne didn't really relax its guard until the Treaty of Aix la Chapelle was actually signed in October of 1748, I took a little creative license so our group could get through the town.

I've been asked to write for a charity fundraiser that's coming up, and I'm wondering if anyone would be interested in a Cutlass outtake. I can't write anything that would spoil the story, of course, but maybe a look at how Charlie acquired the cutlass? Or Edward's first encounter with Hunter? If you'd be interested, let me know what you'd like to see in a review and I'll see what I can do.

Teaser for Ch.11 will be up on The Fictionators on Monday – www (dot) fictionators (dot) com.

See you Tuesday!


	11. Chapter 11: Questions Answered

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **Thanks to all of your for your support of this story in reviews, PMs, Facebook, Twitter, etc. It really means a lot to me.

As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

More on the upcoming **Cutlass **outtake at the bottom.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Christmas is but a few days away, yet I have already received a most precious gift. <strong>_

_**My Mary has consented to become my wife.**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 22 December, 1665**_

**Chapter 11: Questions Answered**

"Your sister?" Bella repeated, her disbelieving gaze moving from Edward to Alice and back again.

"Well," Alice said, "half-sister to put a finer point on it, but it's no matter." She waved a hand to change the subject, then hooked her arm through Bella's, drawing her toward the house. "You must be tired after your journey...and hungry, I'll wager. I had Cook prepare a light supper, then perhaps a nice hot bath before retiring, yes?"

"Ummm..." Bella's head spun, still trying to grasp the fact that One-Eyed Eddie had a sister. "A bath would be...lovely, thank you."

"Of course," Alice replied. "I'm certain my brother hasn't provided you with the basic necessities on that ship of his. How can you abide it?" Without giving Bella a chance to respond, she continued, "Oh well, you're here now, and we'll make sure you're treated properly."

Edward cleared his throat. "She has not been mistreated."

"No?" Alice glanced back at him. "Cleaning your quarters? Polishing your boots? Really, Edward, is that how you treat a lady?" She turned back to Bella. "I don't blame you for sewing his sleeves shut."

Bella just gaped, uncertain how to respond. "How did you know...?

Jasper stepped up to her other side and leaned in conspiratorially. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it," he said. Alice granted him a sunny smile, and Jasper's cheeks heated. He rushed ahead to open the door, holding it gallantly.

"Thank you, Mr. Whitlock," Alice said with a gentle nod as they walked into the home.

Bella blinked in the brighter interior light, a row of sconces casting the vast entryway in a warm glow. A curving staircase swept up to her left, culminating in a railed balcony spanning the wall above and in front of her. Beneath it, a hallway led to the back of the house, but Alice led her to a pair of double doors to the right. A uniformed servant stepped forward, pushing both doors open, then moving to the side with a deferential bow.

"Thank you, Job," she said as they passed him. "Now, Bella, I thought we'd sit in here rather than the dining room. So much more homey, don't you think?"

Homey wasn't exactly the word that crossed Bella's mind. The room positively gleamed, from the dark, polished wood floors to the intricately carved furniture, to the sparkling chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling, candlelight reflecting off dozens of crystals dripping from his ornate arms. As Job pulled the doors quietly closed, Alice led her toward a pair of velvet settees facing each other on a thick Persian rug. Bella sat down stiffly, worried she was going to soil the furniture.

Edward, however, seemed to have no such qualms, sprawling on the settee across from her, his legs splayed wide. Jasper opted to stand next to the fireplace – and next to Alice, Bella noticed – with his hands loosely clasped behind his back.

Bella cleared her throat. "You have a lovely home. Do you...live here alone?"

Alice laughed. "Edward really told you nothing, did he?" She shook her head, shooting her brother another exasperated glance.

"Well, to be fair," Edward said, "I really haven't had the opportunity..."

"Of course you did," Alice said, waving a hand in dismissal and turning back to Bella. "This is our father's home."

A door slammed somewhere in the house, and Bella heard footsteps approaching. Edward stood, moving to stand next to Jasper.

"I assumed he'd be with Esme," he said, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, shoulders stiff.

"Of course not. He wanted to see you." Alice turned back to Bella, muttering apologetically. "I told him you'd be here at sundown, but he's always late."

Bella still felt lost in the conversation of half-sentences and obscure innuendo. "Who-?"

"Alice," Edward interrupted in a low voice, eyes darting to the doorway as the footsteps grew louder. "Perhaps you should show Bella to her rooms?" Bella could swear he looked nervous. Almost..._afraid._

"Oh, Edward." Alice laughed. "It's too late now."

And with that, the double-doors opened, admitting a tall, distinguished-looking man in a navy coat and breeches. His thick blonde hair was caught back in a queue, the pristine cravat at his neck and heavily embroidered waistcoat speaking of wealth and taste. Ice blue eyes scanned the room before coming to rest on Edward.

He smiled, moving forward to extend a hand. "Edward. It's good to see you."

Edward cleared his throat, taking the man's hand in a firm grip. "Father. You're looking well." Bella realized his accent had changed again. In fact, he'd been speaking differently ever since Alice had appeared.

Edward's father shook Jasper's hand, greeting him politely, then turned to Bella.

"And this must be the famous Isabella I've heard so much about."

Alice smiled. "She prefers 'Bella', Father."

"Ah, Bella," he said, stepping toward her and reaching for her hand. She placed her fingers in his, and he bowed slightly. "It is a pleasure. I am Carlisle Cullen."

Bella swallowed nervously. "The pleasure is mine, Sir."

"I trust you had a pleasant journey?" he asked, as he sat down across from Bella and Alice. He smiled kindly, but Bella couldn't help but notice a tension around his eyes, a sadness she couldn't quite place.

"Pleasant?" Bella repeated, remembering the dinghy, the scrabbling through the woods, the walk through the center of town, trying not to attract attention. "It was...uneventful, Sir."

"Yes, well." He cast a significant glance at his son. "Considering the company you keep, I suppose that is a good thing, no?"

Bella was still out of her depth. Apparently, Edward didn't hide his lifestyle from his family. Of course, with a sister like Alice, she imagined it would be difficult to hide anything. Still, she had no idea how to respond. Fortunately, the double doors opened again at that moment, and Job entered.

"Excuse me, my lord," he said gravely. "Shall I bring in the refreshments?"

Bella's eyes widened.

_My lord?_

"Yes, Job," Edward's father replied. "That would be lovely."

Bella turned her shocked gaze on Edward.

_My lord?_

Edward cleared his throat, looking down at the floor.

"I think you've stunned poor Bella, Father," Alice said with a knowing grin as Edward fidgeted, hands first in his pockets, then clenched together tightly.

"It appears Edward has neglected to tell her much about the family," she said.

"Alice..." Edward grumbled.

"Oh, there's little point trying to hide it now, don't you think?" she replied turning to Bella, who continued to watch the interaction with confusion.

Although certain things were finally beginning to make sense.

"My father didn't introduce himself quite completely," Alice explained. "Isabella Swan, please meet our father, Carlisle Cullen, Viscount Coffey."

Edward's father snorted, waving a hand. "Titles are so ridiculous in this place, don't you think?" he asked Bella. "It's a long way from England."

"A viscount?" Bella said, turning a questioning glance on Edward.

Alice patted her hand, leaning in to whisper, "His great-grandfather on his mother's side was an earl."

"An _earl_?" Bella choked.

"Yes, but his grandfather was a second son, so he'll likely not inherit that title," Alice said, brightening as Job rolled in a cart carrying a pot of tea and several covered dishes. "Ah, some refreshment. I hope you're hungry."

Bella continued to stare at Edward, who continued to stare at the floor. She heard Jasper snort slightly, and when she glanced at him, he winked.

"If you'll excuse me," Edward said abruptly, striding toward the door. "I need some air." He left without a backwards glance. Alice patted Bella's hand again.

"Go on, then," she said resignedly. "I'll try to keep the tea hot while you both settle this matter. Mr. Whitlock?" She handed Jasper a cup of tea as Bella stood and excused herself quietly.

She found Edward on the front porch, leaning against a column and regarding the stars with a resigned air.

"So," she said after a moment, "you really are a gentleman."

Edward snorted. "Well, I suppose that depends on your definition of the term."

She moved to a low bench, settling down behind him. His broad back blocked the moonlight, creating an aura around his form.

"I don't understand. Why keep it a secret? That is, I assume your men don't know."

"Only Jasper."

"But...why?"

Edward exhaled heavily, pushing away from the column to pace across the porch. "I never misled them intentionally," he said. "When I came on board the _Arrow_, nobody asked where I came from. They all assumed I was like them – a man in need of work, searching for his fortune. Later, they feared me too much to question my background."

"Wouldn't they know the name?" she asked.

"Did you?" Edward challenged, turning to face her. "My father lives a quiet life here. He doesn't flaunt his title, and very few people in Charles Towne even know of it. Job is the only one determined to adhere to such societal niceties."

"It's hardly something to be ashamed of."

"I'm not ashamed," Edward replied, rolling his shoulders and rubbing the tension out of the back of his neck. "Not precisely. It's just...my men have certain..._expectations_ for a leader. They need a strong, ruthless captain...not a coddled dandy.

"And the fact of the matter is, I've left this life behind," he added quietly. "My life now is the _Arrow_ and its crew."

Bella watched him turn to lean against the column again. This time, facing her. "But you seem close to your family," she said. "Isn't it difficult being away from them?"

He stiffened, looking away abruptly. "Yes, well that is neither here nor there. There is no point regretting what has to be."

"But-"

"We should get back inside," he said gruffly. "Alice will be wondering what happened to us."

"Edward-"

"Bella," he interrupted, moving toward the entrance. "I do not wish to discuss this further, please. My past life is irrelevant. I only answered your questions because I have said I will not lie to you.

"I trust I can rely upon you to be discreet?" he asked, hand on the door knob.

"Of course," Bella agreed. "This is your business. No one else's."

He swallowed, then nodded. "Thank you."

He started to open the door, and Bella called out, "Edward?"

He paused.

"I think they would understand," she said. "Your crew, I mean. I think you could tell them the truth.

Edward said nothing for a long moment, then he murmured, "Perhaps." He held the door open, extending a palm. "After you, Smith."

Bella got up, and they walked back into the house.

~0~

The sun had barely peeked over the horizon when Alice made her way up the stairs to the room of their current house guest. She paused briefly in the filtered sunlight by Jasper's door, laying a hand on the warm wood with a faint smile on her face.

Perhaps she would be able to spend a little time with him today before he swept out of her life again for who knew how long.

She could but hope. Alice's visions regarding Jasper were often hazy and uncertain. She could only assume it was because her own emotions were so strong in the matter.

Hope was a powerful thing. Sometimes it could overshadow fate and make it difficult for her to discern what _would_ be from what _could_ be...and what she _wished_ to be.

With a sigh, she moved on. There was no use worrying about it. Over the years, Alice had learned patience above all things.

She neared Bella's door with a smile. Now, Bella was a different story altogether. Alice had seen her – sharp and vivid – years before she knew anything about her or the connection she would have with her brother.

At the thought of Edward, Alice released a light chuckle. Seeing the two of them together had been both amusing and intriguing. It was obvious there was an attraction there – Alice had foreseen that there would be – but they both seemed to be either denying it or fighting it for some unknown reason.

After the two returned to the sitting room the evening before, they'd both been pensive and distracted. Edward had eaten little, pressing Alice for information. She'd denied him, not to be cruel, but because she knew in order to get the answers he sought, she would have to be fully prepared. There were things to be gathered, rituals to be performed.

It could not be rushed.

Edward finally relented when she promised a reading at midday. He'd relaxed after that, laughing and smiling, and for a while, it seemed almost like the old days, the days before...

Alice sighed again, knocking at the door lightly. At Bella's quiet invitation, she pushed it open, poking her head through.

"Good morning," Alice said quietly. "I'm sorry it's so early, but I thought you might like an early-morning walk."

Bella sat up in bed, brushing her hair back from her face. "Actually, that would be nice," she said. "I have so many questions racing around in my head; I can't sleep anymore anyway."

Alice laughed, walking into the room. "I thought you might," she said. "That's why I'm here."

"Really?" Bella's eyes lit up with interest.

Alice sat down on the edge of the bed. "There are things you should know that my brother does not talk about easily. I thought it might be easier if I shared them with you."

"What kinds of things?"

"Not here," Alice said, standing up and crossing the room to a large chest of drawers. "Let's get outside and enjoy this morning air, and I'll tell you all about our family and what has led us to these rather unique circumstances." She turned around, offering Bella fresh clothing. "These are my mother's. I think you two are of a similar stature, so they should fit adequately. The servants will bring up some water for you, then I'll meet you outside?"

"All right," Bella said, taking the clothes. "Thank you, Alice."

She smiled softly. "I haven't done anything yet," she said. "But given what I've seen of you and my brother, I have a feeling I should be thanking you."

Alice winked and left the room, Bella staring after her in confusion.

~0~

Bella washed and dressed quickly, eager to learn what Alice had to tell her. The green gown fit her better than the one she'd been wearing, and as she pinned her hair up into a loose bun, then slipped on her shoes, she wondered a bit about Alice's mother, and Edward's, and, well...just about everything about the Cullen family.

She padded quietly down the stairs, the house still silent in the early morning hours, save for an occasional clink or clatter from the kitchen, where she assumed breakfast preparations were underway. Alice waited for her on the front porch, once again linking their arms and leading her away from the house. The air was cool but comfortable, a slight dew sparkling on the grass as they made their way past a row of small, brick buildings. A dark-skinned woman emerged from one, shaking a rug furiously, then raising a hand in greeting as she spotted them. Alice waved back.

"Does your family own many slaves?" Bella asked. In the daylight, she could see the property was much larger than she'd thought – with acres of fields stretching out behind the house. She could only guess at how many people it would take to maintain such a place.

"Oh, no," Alice said, shaking her head. "Father is an abolitionist. The fields are farmed by hired hands, as well as a few sharecroppers."

Bella felt a sense of relief at that. "Your father seems like a good man."

Alice smiled at her. "He is. He...tries to do what is right." Her face clouded slightly. "Unfortunately, that is not always clear."

"What do you mean?"

They approached the river and Alice led her to a fallen log. "Let's sit here for a bit," she said. "And I'll start at the beginning."

Bella settled next to her, looking out over the rushing water. The sunlight glinted off the ripples, sparkling like so many diamonds, as Alice began her story.

"Father grew up like many of his class, in a life of privilege. Summers at the country estate, the Season in London, that kind of thing," she said. "Of course, there were certain expectations that came along with being heir to Viscount Coffey, one of which was a suitable marriage. As daughter of a marquess of considerable wealth, Elizabeth Jacobs was a logical choice."

"Edward's mother," Bella mused.

Alice nodded and continued. "Theirs was not a love match, but one of respect and resignation, I suppose one could say. They got on well enough, and although there was no great passion, their life seemed happy. Edward was born, and for a short time they were content. Unfortunately, as is often the case with such a marriage of convenience, respect began to erode, turning instead to regret.

"Then, my mother came along."

"Esme," Bella said, remembering the name Edward had mentioned the night before.

"Yes. She became the Cullens' housekeeper, and – to hear her tell it – the attraction was instantaneous. Father was away conducting business when Elizabeth hired her, but when he returned...well, my mother says it was something akin to being struck by lightning.

"They fought it for many months, but all the while, Father and Elizabeth grew further apart. At first, the arguments escalated, then eventually, they began to ignore each other instead. They say anger can kill a marriage, but believe me, Bella, apathy is a far more dangerous weapon.

"Elizabeth took a lover, and eventually, my father turned to my mother." She looked out over the water, her face soft. "Perhaps it was wrong, but who can lay blame, really? When both were so unhappy...so lonely? I don't know. Perhaps I only try to make excuses because if not for their indiscretion, I would not exist."

Bella didn't know how to respond to that, so she said nothing.

"When my mother told Father she was expecting, he was thrilled." She glanced at Bella. "I know it seems strange, but he really was. He loved her so, and for them to share a child... Well, it was the one thing he could give her, even though he couldn't give her his name.

"The scandal was disastrous, of course. Lord Cullen was furious that his son would throw his life away on a common strumpet - his words," she added with a wince. "Elizabeth was humiliated. It wasn't the fact that my father had had an affair, you understand, or even that he'd fathered a bastard. It was that it all became so very public.

"Elizabeth demanded they leave London, and both her parents and Father's agreed. In fact, Lord Cullen threatened to disinherit him if he did not take care of the situation satisfactorily. They decided to come to the Colonies.

"My father insisted that my mother come along. She was heavy with child, and he refused to leave her behind. Elizabeth begged him to reconsider, threatened to leave him, but he would not be swayed. So they all boarded a ship and ended up here. I was born shortly after we arrived.

"Elizabeth, however, said she could not bear the humiliation of sharing a house with her husband's mistress. So, my mother took a small house on the edge of the property. Father cared for her – continues to care for her – and claimed me for his own, giving me his name, although I still feel awkward using it, to be perfectly honest. It seems a betrayal to my mother, since she does not have the same privilege.

"Lord Cullen died a few years ago, the title passing to Father. His mother wrote and tried to persuade him to return to London, but he has a life here now. And he won't leave my mother."

Bella asked quietly, "What happened to Elizabeth?"

Alice's face fell. "She was killed."

"She was murdered," a low voice corrected.

Bella turned to see Edward standing a few feet behind them, looking past them at the river. Bella noticed he'd changed his clothes as well, now dressed in a fine dark suit with a brocade waistcoat. His long hair was caught neatly back in a queue, his normally scruffy face clean-shaven and his trademark red scarf replaced by a simple black hat.

Alice patted her arm gently. "I think Edward can tell you the rest," she said, standing and rounding the log to head back in the direction they'd come. She paused next to Edward, reaching out to squeeze his hand before continuing on her way. After a moment, he walked toward Bella, bracing his foot on the log and leaning his elbows on his knee. They remained in silence for a while, the only sounds the rushing river and the occasional call of a bird overhead.

"It was Aro," he said finally, eyes dropping to the log as he worked the heel of his shoe against the bark. Bits broke off, falling to the sand below. "He came to the house searching for the journal. My father was...away...with Esme. My mother knew nothing of the journal, not that it mattered. I'm not certain exactly what happened. She was alone in the house-" His voice broke, and Bella reached out instinctively to touch his hand. He stiffened, stepping over the log and walking to the water's edge.

"It was a blow to the head of some kind," Edward continued, his back to Bella and voice so low she had to strain to hear him. "Perhaps it was an accident. Perhaps not. In any regard, it doesn't matter. Aro killed my mother.

"My father was never the same. Theirs was a loveless marriage, but he had vowed to protect my mother. He could never forgive himself that he wasn't there to fulfill that vow. He punishes himself for that failure every day. It is why he denies himself happiness with the woman he loves, even all these years later.

"As for me, I chose to go after the man who killed my mother. It's the reason I left home and boarded the _Arrow._"

He turned his head to look at her, his expression fierce, eye dark and unblinking. "So now you know it all. This is not just about my eye, or any treasure. It is not some kind of game. Not to me," he said. "You are not the only one seeking vengeance, Bella. It appears we have more in common than you imagined."

"Aro destroyed my family," he said through gritted teeth. "I will not stop until _he_ is destroyed."

Bella held his gaze, then stood and walked toward him. He watched her steadily as she looked up at him, then lifted a tentative hand to touch his cheek. He flinched but did not protest as she traced the scar beneath his eye patch, her hand finally coming to rest over his heart.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"I don't seek your pity."

"It is not pity," she countered, willing him to believe her. "I _understand_."

He looked away. "My father doesn't."

"He knows what you're doing then?"

Edward sighed. "He suspects, but after so many arguments, he's decided it's best that we not discuss it. In any regard, he thinks I should give this all up and come home."

"That's not his choice."

Edward turned back to her. "No, it's not."

"It all makes sense now," she said. "When I told you why I wanted to find the man who killed my father, you never tried to discourage me. You never told me it was a foolish notion, that I was doomed to fail. Many people did, you know."

His lips quirked. "Well, I may not have _said_ it..."

She smirked. "Now, don't ruin the moment."

He laughed.

"The point is," she continued. "I understand better than anyone your motives, the depth of your need to bring Aro to justice. For that is what it is, Edward. Justice. For you...for your family...and for me and mine.

"You say you want Aro destroyed. Well, I do too. I will help you in any way I can. I hope you believe that."

Edward held her gaze for a long moment, then swallowed thickly, his hand moving to clasp hers where it still lay over his heart.

"Thank you," he said, his thumb stroking her skin gently. Bella's face heated and she stepped back, her hand falling to her side.

"We should probably get back," she said.

Edward nodded, clearing his throat. "Yes...yes, of course." They started back down the path toward the house. "Alice has promised a reading at midday, so after breakfast, I thought perhaps a bit of sword training."

"Training? For who?"

"For you, of course."

"Me?" Bella came to a halt. "You're joking."

Edward grinned. "You're a pirate now, Smith. You need to know how to use a sword."

Bella chewed her lip, oddly intrigued by the idea. "You really think you could teach me?"

"Well, enough to keep you alive, at least," he replied. "But it won't be a gentlemanly type of swordplay. I hope that doesn't offend your delicate sensibilities."

Bella snorted. "I don't have delicate sensibilities."

"I'm beginning to see that."

They turned to continue toward the house. "What do you mean? About gentlemanly swordplay?" she asked. "Are you saying you're going to teach me to fight dirty?"

Edward laughed, the sound ringing clear through the air.

"We're pirates, Smith," he said with a wide smile. "Of course we fight dirty."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I will be contributing a **Cutlass **outtake to **Fandom for No Kid Hungry**. It will focus on Charlie, and how he got the cutlass, as well as some other things I can't share yet without spoiling the main story. This will be information Bella and Edward will never find out, since Charlie's dead (and you know what they say about dead men telling tales) – but it's not essential to understanding the main story. It's just some fun backstory for those who are interested.

Sixteen million kids in the United States will go to bed tonight without dinner because their family can't afford it. **No Kid Hungry**, a campaign by **Share Our Strength**, has a goal to end hunger in America by 2015. With a minimum donation of $10, you'll get a compilation with stories from more than 50 authors, including the **Cutlass** outtake. For more information, go to fandomcause (dot) info.

In addition, if we reach our goal of raising $2000, I will write an **additional Cutlass outtake **once the story is complete – and you, the readers, will decide what it will be. Once the epilogue is posted, I will take requests for outtakes, and post a poll on my profile so you all can vote.

Teaser for Ch. 12 will be up on The Fictionators on Monday www (dot) fictionators (dot) com. See you Tuesday!


	12. Chapter 12: The Seer

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The new year brings with it unwelcome news. I have received word that the expedition has left port and is sailing for the mainland. <strong>_

_**Time is running out, I fear. I can no longer way for the ice to melt. I journey south before week's end.**_

_**I can only pray that God will see me safely delivered to warmer climes. **_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 2 January, 1666**_

**Chapter 12: The Seer**

"It's these ridiculous skirts! How am I supposed to be able to lunge or parry or..._move_...in these ridiculous skirts?" Bella threw her sword to the ground in frustration. "For heaven's sake, Edward, don't you dare laugh at me!"

Edward fought to keep a straight face, but he feared he was failing miserably.

"I don't know why you insist on complaining about things you can do nothing about, Smith," he said instead, holding his own cutlass aloft and waving her forward with his other hand. "Now, let's try again."

She fisted her hands on her hips, glaring at him for a moment in the dim light filtering through the windows of the barn behind his father's home. She bit her lip, then bent over at the waist to pick up the hem of her dress. Edward watched in surprise as she gathered the skirts between her legs and tucked them into her waistband. He tried not to stare at the lower half of her legs exposed by the action, but he could hardly be blamed for his inability to do so.

"What...what are you doing?" he asked in a choked voice.

"I'm up here," she replied dryly, waiting patiently for him to raise his gaze to her eyes. "I need more freedom of movement," she explained. "I trust this isn't too much for _your_ delicate sensibilities?" She smirked, mimicking his earlier words, and picked up her sword.

"_Now_, let's try again," she said.

"Very well." Edward straightened, focusing on the goal at hand. "Remember, you must try to deflect the blow so you don't receive the full impact. Your size and agility are your strengths."

"I know." She nodded impatiently. "Slip. Slide. Spin. Smack."

"Precisely. Ready?"

Bella held her sword with both hands in front her her, eyes focused in grim determination. "Ready."

Edward moved in - slower than usual, but not so slow it wouldn't be a challenge for her. He swung the cutlass in a wide arc from right to left, pleased when Bella stepped back and to the side to evade the worst of the assault.

"Slip," she murmured under her breath.

She swung her sword along an intersecting arc, not trying to block his, but instead using her sword to change the angle of his blow. The two weapons rang out, metal gliding against metal as Edward's cutlass dipped to her side.

"Slide."

In a fluid motion, Bella twirled around, her sword flashing.

"Spin."

Then the flat of her sword tapped against his temple...

"Smack."

Another spin, and the hilt touched his nose...

"Smack."

And Bella grabbed his shoulders, her knee coming up to nudge him between the legs.

"Smack," she said, smiling proudly as she looked up at him.

Edward grinned back. "Well done." It took a moment for him to recognize the strange warmth that filled him at her glowing expression.

Pride.

And...something..._else._

Her fingers flexed on his shoulders, smile falling as a flush of pink climbed her cheeks. Edward realized she had yet to move, her knee still lodged between his legs, her body pressed up against him tantalizingly. Unknowingly, his own hands had drifted to her waist, and he swallowed thickly as they slid around to hold her closer. Both swords clattered to the floor, forgotten.

"Edward?" Her hesitant whisper seemed a mixture of confusion and wonder. Her eyes widened as he leaned down, so close her breath teased his tongue as his lips parted.

It was too much temptation, really. There was no way he could resist.

He closed the distance between them, taking her mouth without another moment of hesitation, and a shocked sound escaped her, the vibration sending a surge of heat through Edward's body. He pressed against her, one hand sliding up to hold her head in place. His fingers weaved through her hair, a few pins falling to the ground as it came loose in his grip, silken tresses falling over his wrist in a delicious tangle.

Bella softened in his arms, fitting into the curve of his embrace with a quiet sigh. Teasing her mouth open, he dipped his tongue between her lips, shocked when she sucked it lightly, her fingers moving to clasp around his neck as if to hold him in place.

Like he was going anywhere.

He tightened his grip, lifting her so her toes barely brushed the ground, and turned his attention to her neck, burying his nose in her concentrated scent. He kissed the soft skin below her ear, his tongue darting out to taste her, eliciting a delicious shiver. Her head fell back as he slipped his tongue under the chain she always wore, following its trail down to where it disappeared beneath her bodice. She gasped as he teasingly licked into the cleft between her breasts, then nipped his way back up to the hollow of her throat.

"Edward..." A moan. A plea. A promise.

"Edward?" He stiffened at the more distant sound of a voice calling his name. A voice other than Bella's.

He stepped back abruptly, loosening his grip on Bella, but not releasing her. She swayed slightly, eyes wide and dazed.

"What...?" she asked, steadying herself on his arms.

"Someone's coming."

She blinked twice, then seemed to grasp what he'd said. She started, hand flying to her throat...her disheveled hair. She swept it back, twisting it quickly as she searched the floor for her missing pins.

"Edward?" the voice called out again, closer now. At any moment, the barn door would fly open. Edward retrieved his coat and slipped it on quickly, buttoning it in an effort to hide the very obvious evidence of what they'd been doing. He adjusted himself, wincing slightly, and bent to pick up the swords.

"Mbbffmmm," Bella mumbled through the pins in her mouth. At his confused glance, she removed the pins, sticking them quickly into her newly-formed bun, then straightening her skirts. "Who is it?" she whispered, taking her sword from him.

"Esme," he hissed back, raising the cutlass. "Come on, now. As you were."

Bella raised her sword, swinging it with both hands and taking Edward a little by surprise when it clanged against his with more force than he expected. He stepped back, bracing himself, just as the barn door swung open and Esme Brandon stuck her head through the door.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, squinting as she entered the dim interior. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to greet you. Ellen Waltham went into labor and the midwife was dealing with another birth." She crossed to Edward, popping up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

"Is she all right?" Edward asked, smiling down at the woman he'd come to think of as family. Despite their rather unique relationship, Edward had always been close to Esme. It was odd, he supposed, but he had never felt anger toward either Esme or his father about their relationship. Perhaps he'd never seen the point.

Esme smiled. "She's fine. She had a strong baby boy." She turned to Bella with a smile and slight nod. "You must be Bella. I'm Esme Brandon, Alice's mother."

Bella glanced at Edward nervously before smiling in return`. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Esme looked between them, an unreadable glint in her eye. "Alice sent me to find you," she explained. "She says she's ready."

"Ah, good," Edward said brusquely, sheathing his sword and reaching for Bella's to do the same. "Where is she?"

"In her hut. She's been preparing all morning."

Edward nodded, turning to Bella. "We should go."

She didn't meet his eyes. "Would you mind?" She lifted her hands, and Edward noticed they trembled slightly. "Could I have a moment to clean up? I won't take long."

Edward pretended not to notice Esme studying him closely. "Of course. Go ahead, and I'll put your sword away. Meet us in front of the house." He and Esme followed Bella out of the barn. Bella turned to head to the pump behind the house as they continued toward the front porch.

"She's a beautiful girl," Esme said quietly.

Edward hummed noncommittally, studying the hilt of Bella's sword closely.

"You two seem to have become quite close."

He snorted. "It will be fortunate if we don't kill each other before this is over."

"Oh, I don't think there's much danger of that," Esme said, amusement coloring her tone.

At that, he looked up, meeting her kind gaze before looking away.

"You like her," she said.

"Don't be ridiculous. She's the most stubborn, infuriating-"

"You _like_ her." Esme's smile was smug. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He could almost feel the imprint of Bella's fingers there, holding him close.

"Perhaps. A bit," he admitted. "Not that it matters."

"Of course it matters!"

Edward laughed humorlessly. "Why?" he asked. "Nothing can come of it."

"Why ever not?" Esme asked, searching his face.

Edward said nothing for a long moment, then replied, his voice a quiet rumble, "I've nothing to offer her."

"Now who's being ridiculous?" Esme linked her arm through his, drawing him near. "My daughter isn't the only one who sees things, Edward. It's obvious Bella feels something for you as well."

"Well, she shouldn't," he grunted. "What kind of a life could I give her? Always on the run...living day to day?"

"It doesn't have to be that way," Esme prodded quietly. "You could come home."

He laughed humorlessly. "It's too late for that," he said. "I'm a wanted man, Esme. It's dangerous for me to be here now, even for this brief time. It's dangerous for all of us."

They reached the house, and Edward tucked Bella's sword just inside the front door before rejoining Esme, sitting on a bench next to her as they waited for Bella.

Esme looked out over the grassy area in front of the house. "You know, Edward," she said, "Alice is always telling me that the future is not set. Every decision we make alters our path and takes us in a new direction. It's why she sees some things so clearly, and others are muddled and vague."

"Yes, she's said the same to me."

Esme smiled, patting his hand gently. "I find that comforting. To think that we make our own destiny. That there is always hope for the future."

Edward leaned forward, balancing his arms on his knees, gaze focused on his hands loosely clasped before him.

"Things change, Edward," Esme said fervently, reaching out to touch his cheek and draw his gaze. "Don't give up hope."

And as he looked into Esme's earnest face, he could almost believe it was true.

~0~

Bella's hands trembled as she dipped them into the water trough, splashing water on her cheeks to cool the burning there. She could still feel Edward's hands on her, his lips...his tongue. The way the heat shot through her body like a bolt of lightning.

The shameful way she threw herself at him, begging for more.

Pressing a damp hand against the back of her neck, she drew in a heavy breath. What was she thinking?

The fact was, she hadn't been thinking at all. When he touched her, all rational thought dissolved away, leaving behind only touch and taste and scent...

And instinct. The instinct to draw him closer, press against him completely...if she could, to climb inside of him and wrap herself in his warmth.

Thank heavens Esme had come along, or Bella had no doubt she would have stopped at nothing to have him. Like a common strumpet, she would have thrown herself at him, begging – or even demanding – that he give her what she wanted.

And Bella could no longer deny that she wanted. She _wanted_...desperately.

But such a liaison could only end in disaster, and lord knows her life was a disaster enough already. No, giving in to these cravings would only lead to pain. Edward Cullen admitted himself that he never kept a woman around for long. There was no doubt he would break her heart.

Bella straightened, patting her hair into place and regaining her poise with every deep breath. She needed to be more careful, keep her guard up around Edward. And for goodness sake, she needed to avoid getting close enough to touch the man.

Yes, she could do this. She just needed to stay in control of the situation.

Focus on her mission. Finding Aro. Finding the treasure.

Working with Edward to avenge her father's death, and then getting back to her own life – although she had no idea what exactly that would entail at the moment.

She did know, however, that she no longer planned to try to turn Edward over to the Crown. Bella wasn't precisely sure when she'd decided that, but she knew it now without a doubt. Edward Cullen may have broken the law, but she knew in her heart he was a decent man – driven to his actions by pain that few could understand.

She understood.

So no, there would be no gathering evidence, no seeking Commodore Hunter when all of this was over. Instead, she and Edward would go their separate ways amicably.

Bella didn't want to consider why that thought left an empty feeling in her stomach.

She rolled her shoulders and walked around the side of the house, finding Edward and Esme sitting on a bench on the front porch. Edward stood, tall and fine in his refined suit of clothes. Bella looked away quickly, fighting to control the flush on her cheeks.

"Ready?" Edward asked, his attention drawn by approaching hoof beats. They looked up as Lord Cullen rode up on a black stallion, hair disheveled and breath a bit heavy from exertion.

"Good day," he said, climbing down from the saddle and handing the reins to a young boy. He smoothed a hand over his hair. "Lovely day, isn't it? I apologize for missing you at breakfast. I had business to attend to in town." He turned to Edward. "Jasper asked me to tell you he would be along shortly." Edward nodded as his father smiled at Bella. "I trust you slept well?"

"Yes, thank you. I was quite comfortable."

"Good. That's good," he replied, a bit distracted. Bella understood why when his gaze drifted to Esme, still sitting on the porch bench.

"Miss Brandon. I hope you are well this morning."

Esme smiled. "Very well. Thank you."

Bella watched as they stared at each other for a long moment, feeling a bit like an intruder. Then Lord Cullen started slightly, turning to Edward. "You're off to see Alice, then?" he asked.

Edward nodded.

"And then I suppose you'll be leaving us."

"At sundown."

Edward's father took a deep, resigned breath. "Well, then. We'll need to have Cook prepare a special supper before you're on your way." He turned back to Esme, his face softening and the ever-present sadness in his eyes vanishing as he gazed at her. "Perhaps you could help me create a suitable menu, Miss Brandon?"

"It would be my pleasure," she replied, cheeks coloring lightly.

He started toward her, then held out a hand. "Would you like to take a turn about the property first?" he asked quietly. "As I said, it is a lovely day. It would be a shame to waste it."

Esme smiled prettily, laying her hand in his. He gently drew it into the nook of his elbow and led her off the porch without a glance back.

Bella watched them walk away. "Are they always like that?" she asked Edward.

"Aye," Edward replied. "Like there is no one else in the world."

"I don't understand," she began. "They're so in love. It's obvious they belong together. It just seems such a waste." Realizing her words might offend, she turned to Edward wide-eyed. "Not that it's any of my business. I'm sorry. This must be a sensitive subject for you."

Edward continued to watch his father and Esme as they neared the tree line. "Not really. You would expect so, but you would be wrong," he said quietly. "We should go." He started off the porch, and Bella fell into step next to him. She'd thought the subject dropped until he spoke again.

"I knew from a very young age that my parents didn't love each other," he said. "They both loved me. I was fortunate in that regard. And they respected each other, I suppose you could say. But the truth is, theirs was a marriage based on money and power, not love.

"But what my father and Esme have..." His voice trailed off. "Well, that is something that is rare and pure. I would never be one to deny it." He flashed a grin at her. "Did Alice tell you about the first time we met?"

Bella shook her head. They neared a path through the woods, and Edward held a branch out of her way. The air was cooler, damp and mossy, and Bella drew her shawl closer around her shoulders as she followed behind him.

"I was ten years old at the time," he said. "Alice was about four, and I came upon her playing on the beach. She was a tiny thing with wild hair sticking out every which way. I was a bit full of myself at the time-" Bella snorted, and he glanced back at her wryly. "I demanded to know who she was and why she was playing on _my_ beach. She looked up at me with these huge eyes – much too big for her face – and said she was Alice Brandon Cullen, and it was _her_ beach because her father told her so.

"I was outraged, naturally," he continued. "I called her a liar and went home to tell my mother. But when I mentioned the girl's name, my mother broke. She said I was making it up and there was no such girl, and I should never speak of her again.

"I insisted I was telling the truth, but she would hear none of it." He paused, turning back to her. "It was the only time my mother ever beat me."

Bella gaped at him, lost for words as he turned to continue down the path. "Afterward, my father found me hiding in the barn. He dried my tears and told me Alice was my sister. That as her elder brother, it was my duty to protect her. I was to never mention her to anyone else – especially my mother – but I was to care for her above all others. He said he counted on me to take the responsibility seriously.

"I asked about her mother, and he told me it was Esme. She continued to work in our house, you know, although my mother would no longer allow her to live under the same roof. I learned later how she tormented Esme. She was unbelievably cruel..."

He shook his head. "My father didn't say much about Esme, but even at that young age, I could see the love in his eyes. It was something I'd never seen for my mother." He paused, leaning his hand on a tree and looking up toward the sky.

"People are rarely good or evil," he said. "It's easy to judge my father and Esme for what they did, to judge my mother for the times she was cruel, but there were just as many times she was kind, doting on me as only a mother can. The…strain of everything took its toll on her, I suppose. Like anyone, she was imperfect. But she was still my mother, and I loved her.

"As for my father and Esme, who can say they wouldn't do the same for love? Alice and I have both encouraged them to get married, but my father won't hear of it. He is consumed by guilt over my mother's murder, and insists on punishing himself by keeping away from Esme."

He glanced at Bella. "But, as you could see, sometimes he cannot resist."

Bella nodded sadly. "What about Esme? How can she live like that?"

He sighed. "Esme lives in faith that things will change," he said. "She waits patiently for him to exorcise his demons, convinced that someday they will be together."

"You're not so certain that will happen."

Edward shrugged but said nothing. He continued on the path and Bella noticed the trees had become thicker, the sunlight barely penetrating the canopy overhead as they weaved between the gnarled trunks. They came to a small clearing, and in the center stood a little stone hut with a thatched roof and smoke trickling from a crooked chimney. To Bella's surprise, the air smelled almost sweet.

Edward came to a stop, reaching for her arm. Bella flinched at his touch, and he pulled back quickly.

"I'm sorry-"

"No, it's fine. I was just-"

"My fault-"

"No, it's mine-"

"Smith!" he snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Let's just...forget it, shall we?" At her flushed nod, he added, "I just wanted to warn you that Alice may seem a bit...odd when you see her."

Bella cocked her head. "What do you mean odd?"

Edward glanced toward the hut, lowering his voice, slightly. "With Esme working for our family much of the time, Alice grew up with the people who worked for my father, most of them natives from the islands, or even as far away as Africa."

Bella nodded in understanding, and he continued. "Many of them were practitioners of strange religions, and Alice came to study under a local priestess from Hispaniola who taught her rituals to help her sharpen her natural-born sight."

"What kind of rituals?" Bella asked, her voice taking on a hushed tone. "Do you mean magic? Dark arts?" She had heard tales of such things but dismissed them as fancy. Now, in the thick quiet of the forest with the strange, sweet smell around her, an inadvertent shiver raced down her spine at the idea.

"They call it Vodou," he replied. "I don't understand much of it. Spirits and sacrifices. There was a time when I thought it all a bunch of rubbish, but it does seem to help Alice, so I no longer find it that easy to dismiss.

"I just wanted you to be prepared," he said. He leaned in with a teasing wink. "There's still time to run back home, Smith."

Bella's eyes narrowed. "I believe I can deal with it."

Edward shrugged. "Very well. Just be certain you don't swoon, would you? It's getting too bloody hot to carry you back."

"Can we go in now?" she asked in irritation, ignoring the tingle she felt at the thought of Edward carrying her. She headed toward the hut, lifting her fist to knock at the rough wooden door, Edward at her heels.

"Enter," a voice called.

Bella turned the knob, shoving the door open and stepping into the cool, dim interior. The sweet smell was thicker there, and as Edward closed the door behind them, she had a strange sense of being trapped...locked in another world. Candles flickered all around the room...on tables, benches, shelves set into the walls at varying heights, casting the room in a warm glow. Alice watched them carefully from where she stood on the far side of the room behind a table, dressed in a rich gold gown, the sleeves flaring wide from elbow to wrist. She wore an elaborate wig - not powdered, but a rich brown - the coiffure high on her head, with ringlets dangling down her neck. But it was her face that gave Bella pause. Thickly powdered and so pale she resembled a corpse, Alice had outlined her dark eyes with a thick line of kohl. The effect was disturbing, and once again, Bella felt a shiver.

Edward nudged her forward, and Bella stepped toward the table in a daze, noticing the items lined up before Alice. Mellick's journal and the chest from the _Lady_ sat next to a plate of some kind of roasted meat, a cluster of dried flowers, a glass of water, a cloth bag, and yet another grouping of candles. Alice lifted her arms, the sleeves of her gown falling back to reveal her slender forearms, and Bella could have sworn a light wind swirled around the room.

A low murmur reached Bella's ears, and she realized Alice was chanting something quietly, exotic words in a foreign tongue. Alice began to sway, her head tilting back as she chanted, the words growing louder...faster...with every rhythmic repetition. Suddenly, with a sharp cry, her head snapped up and she clapped her hands loudly once, the candles flaring in unison before settling once again to a low flicker.

"The Lwa – the spirits – are pleased," Alice said in a low voice, one hand drifting over the table in front of her. "I have offered gifts on your behalf, and they are prepared to hear your request." She turned to address Edward.

"Edward Cullen, what do you seek?"

Edward stepped forward, clearing his throat. "I seek the cup...and Aro the Merciless."

"Ah, yes, the cup," Alice replied, opening the journal to a page marked with a black ribbon. Bella could make out the sketch of a cup she'd seen when exploring the book herself – a crude rendering, as if drawn in haste, unlike the sketch of the cutlass. Alice ran her fingers over the picture lightly, then picked up the cloth bag, pulling the drawstring open. She shook the bag slightly, and Bella could make out a rattling sound, then she upturned it, pouring its contents over the open pages of the journal. Alice looked down, poking through the mixture of seashells, rocks, and small whitewashed bones, her brow creased in concentration.

"South," Alice said, her words a quiet drone. "You must go south...to Savannah. You will find the cup behind a blue door." She didn't blink, barely breathed. "As for Aro, your paths will cross soon. Sooner than you expect. But first-" She glanced up at Edward, eyes wide. "First, the king's man will come for you."

"King's man?" Edward repeated. "Do you mean Hunter?"

Alice poked through the items on the journal again. "Yes. He is coming, Edward. You must go."

"What of the coin?" he asked. "The map?"

Alice's eyes glazed over for a moment before focusing on Edward once again. "The map is coming to you. It's in the box as you suspect, and you'll receive word soon where to find it."

"What box-?" Bella began. Edward held up a finger to silence her.

"As for the coin…" Alice continued, her brow creased in concentration. "It's shrouded in darkness. It's somewhere familiar, but I cannot see it clearly."

She shook her head as if to clear it. "You need to go, Edward. Before Hunter arrives."

"The ship won't return until nightfall," he said, leaning forward as if he could read Alice's stones and bones himself. "Is there enough time?"

Alice frowned. "I don't know. It's unclear. It will be very close, Edward. You will need to hurry."

Edward nodded, reaching for Bella. "We should get ready. I want to be on the beach at sunset."

They turned to leave, and Alice called out. "Edward?"

He looked back at her, waiting.

"There's more," she said, eyes now staring straight ahead, unseeing.

Or perhaps, Bella thought, _seeing_.

"I see...a betrayal," Alice said. "Someone will betray you, Edward."

He stiffened. "Who?"

"I don't know. But it's someone close to you. Someone you trust." She blinked, her black eyes regaining focus. "Be careful, Edward."

With a grim nod, he opened the door. Bella looked back to see Alice watching them closely as all the candles in the room flared high for a moment, then sputtered out, leaving the room in darkness. Alice's eyes gleamed, reflecting the light from the open door, and Bella turned away to follow Edward outside, her hands clutched together to keep them from trembling.

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><p><strong>AN: **Teaser for Chapter 13 will be up on The **Fictionators** on Monday (www (dot) fictionators (dot) com). And don't forget that a Cutlass outtake will be part of the compilation for **Fandom 4 No Kids Hungry**. See fandomcause (dot) info for all the details – and if we reach our goal of $2000, I will be writing an additional Cutlass outtake once the main story is complete.

Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, recommendations, and kind words. I really appreciate your support.

See you Tuesday!


	13. Chapter 13: The Vow

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **I'm really enjoying reading all of your thoughts and theories about this story. I can't really address them, of course, but I do enjoy reading them. So, thank you for all of your reviews and PMs…and to those of you who are recommending the story to others, as well. It really means a lot to me!

As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

* * *

><p><em><strong>With each step I grow closer to my goal. Now in the warmer southern waters, I find memories of the horrible winter fading, replaced by hope for what is to come.<strong>_

_**Yet hope, as always, is tempered with caution. **_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 15 January, 1666**_

**Chapter 13: The Vow**

Alice's words haunted Edward as he and Bella walked back toward the house. Hunter was closing in. Someone was going to betray him. He glanced at Bella beside him, not wanting to believe what he suspected.

_Would she be the one?_

Bella caught him looking at her. "What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing."

Bella sighed, her exhale loud in the quiet forest. "You think it's me."

"Think what's you?"

"Don't play innocent, Edward. It really doesn't suit you." Bella stopped, reaching for his arm, then pulling her hand back quickly when he flinched. She flushed, looking away abruptly, and he felt a twinge at the idea that he might have actually hurt her feelings.

"You think it's me who will betray you." She didn't give him a chance to reply before continuing. "Not that I blame you. You hardly know me, and I haven't done much to gain your trust since we met." She started forward again, not looking back to see if he followed. "But it isn't me, just so you know, and I'm willing to wait until you believe that. I won't even ask about the box Alice mentioned, just to prove to you I'm not gathering information to go out on my own."

Edward watched her walk away, a leaden feeling twisting in his gut when he realized he really _didn't_ suspect her. He couldn't explain it, but he knew – for some strange reason – that he could trust her.

"Smith, wait," he said, raising his voice to call out louder when she didn't stop. "Bella!"

She paused and he hurried to catch up with her. She brushed at her eyes before turning to look up at him, and he realized she was hiding tears.

"Are you crying?"

She scoffed. "Of course not. It's just…" She waved a hand around. "The dust."

Edward laughed. "I should have known you could never betray anyone," he said with a smirk. "You're a dreadful liar, Smith." She huffed and turned away, but he grabbed her arm to still her movements.

"I'm…sorry," he said quietly.

She blinked in surprise, opening her mouth to respond, but no sounds emerged.

Edward laughed again. "Speechless, Smith? If I'd known all it took was an apology to get a little peace and quiet, I would have done it sooner."

Bella tried to feign irritation, but the quirk of her lips gave her away.

"You really are a bastard." Somehow, the words came out rather fond.

Edward grinned, shaking a finger playfully. "Now, Smith, you've met my father, so you know that's not true."

Bella shook her head in exasperation. "It's more a comment on your personality than your parentage."

Edward's hand flew to his chest, his face grave. "You wound me."

"Somehow, I feel your ego will survive."

They turned together to head out of the forest as Edward snorted. "Oh, Smith. What would I do without your charming conversation?"

"Well, if Alice is right, it won't be long until we find the treasure – and Aro – and this is all over. So you won't have to wait long to find out." She said the words with a teasing lilt, but for some reason, they left Edward feeling rather empty. She glanced at him curiously, obviously noticing the falter in his step, and he forced a smile.

"Speaking of Alice," he said, " the box she spoke of is a puzzle box once owned by Mellick. I believe the other half of the map is in it and have several people looking for it on my behalf."

"People you can trust?"

Edward shrugged. "For a price. They don't know of the map, just the box, and the promise of a handsome reward should be enough."

Bella bit her lip in consideration. "Well, you must be right if Alice says you are."

"So does that mean you've become a believer then?" He watched her carefully.

Bella shrugged. "I've no reason to doubt Alice," she explained. "And I've no better idea than to follow her instructions."

Jasper was waiting for them when they returned to the house, pacing back and forth across the front porch. He looked up as Bella and Edward approached and walked over to meet them. Like Edward, he had opted for a sophisticated suit given their temporary surroundings - dark grey with an emerald waistcoat - his blonde hair smoothly clubbed and gleaming in the sunlight.

He nodded in greeting to Bella, then turned to Edward. "Did you get your answers?" he asked.

"Some," he replied. "As well as more questions. But that is not unusual when dealing with Alice."

Jasper laughed, nodding his head as he ran his hand over his hair. "Yes, well, at least you had _some_ success."

"Did you learn anything in town?" Edward asked, as they turned to head toward the house. Jasper was excellent at ferreting out information, and Edward had sent him to see what he could learn about Aro's whereabouts. It was difficult to track him while they were on the ship, and he'd hoped that perhaps on the mainland there might be some rumor of where he could be found.

"Nothing," Jasper said with a heavy sigh. "No news of Aro...or Hunter, for that matter. The good news is the Crown seems to be focusing its search for the _Arrow _near Hispaniola at this point."

"Not Hunter," Edward corrected. "Alice says he's already on his way."

Jasper frowned. "How soon?"

"She didn't know, but we sail for Savannah at sundown."

"Savannah?" Jasper frowned slightly. "For what purpose?"

"Alice says that's where we're to find the cup. 'Behind a blue door.'"

"A blue door? Well, that should be simple. How many doors can there be in Savannah?" Jasper laughed as they neared the house. He held the front door open for Bella with a slight bow. "Did you ask Alice any questions of your own?"

Bella looked genuinely surprised. "No. I hadn't thought of it, to be honest."

"It doesn't matter. She'll know the questions already, as well as the answers," he said with a fond grin. "Of course, she won't share them unless you ask."

"She says it's rude," Edward added as he led them into the sitting room, sprawling on the settee. "I think she just enjoys tormenting people."

Bella sat across from Edward and watched Jasper as he assumed his usual position at the fireplace. "Have _you_ ever asked her anything?" she asked.

Jasper flushed slightly, eyes drifting to look out the window in the direction of Alice's hut. "Aye. Once or twice."

"Did what she say come true?"

Jasper looked back at her, a soft smile on his face. "Not yet."

A flash of movement at the window drew his gaze back as Alice emerged from the woods. His smile grew, eyes focused on her form as he said, "If you'll both excuse me. I have some...things to attend to before we leave."

He nodded at Bella once before striding from the room. Edward stood, taking his position by the fireplace and, after a moment, spotted Jasper approaching Alice out the window. Her wig was gone, long hair tied loosely at the nape of her neck, and her face scrubbed clean from the powder and kohl. She looked so young, he mused. The two turned and walked away together, faces beaming.

"They're in love," Bella said quietly.

"Aye."

"For how long?"

Edward sighed. "Forever, it seems."

"They have so little time together. It must be difficult." She stood and walked to the window, leaning her face against the cool glass and watching them stroll along the edge of the woods. "So much sadness here," she mused. "Your father separated from Esme...you separated from your family...Jasper and Alice."

Edward cleared his throat but said nothing. Bella turned to look at him, her eyes sorrowful, and a rush of warmth filled him. Part of him longed to cast aside his doubts and just cross the room and gather her in his arms. She leaned toward him slightly, and for a moment, he wondered if she might have been thinking the same thing.

Thinking about what had been interrupted in the barn.

But just as quickly, the moment passed, and Bella shook her head slightly, returning to the settee.

"Do you think..." she began hesitantly, "when all this is over, you'll come back here?"

Edward stiffened, running his fingers lightly along the fireplace mantle. "There is no place for me here now. My life, such as it is, is on the _Arrow._"

"Ah," she said, "yes, of course." Did he detect a note of disappointment in her voice?

For some reason, Edward felt a need to explain himself. "It would be dangerous for me to remain here. I am, as you are well aware, a criminal." When he turned to look at her, he found her watching him, face impassive. He swallowed, fighting the urge to squirm under her direct examination.

"But how long can you live like this?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Edward held her gaze for a moment before turning to look back out the window.

"As long as I must," he said.

~0~

There were times in Jasper's life when he felt as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders, when the responsibilities he had - the promises he'd made - became a dark cloud enveloping him, almost cutting off his very breath.

But when he emerged from the Cullen home and saw Alice standing across the lawn in the bright sunshine, all that weight just melted away. She spotted him, her face blossoming into a smile, and he couldn't help but return it. Her golden gown glowed in the sun, skirts billowing about her legs in the light breeze. She brushed back a few loose strands of hair from her face, and he quickened his pace, eager to get to her.

Every moment was precious.

"Nice suit," she teased as he drew closer.

Jasper laughed, unable to hold it in. "Well, you know. When in Rome and all that..."

Alice grinned as he took her hand, rubbing his thumb over it in gentle circles. "One would hardly know you're a dread pirate," she teased.

"Don't let the gentlemanly exterior fool you," he said, leaning in with a wink. "I'm still quite the dastardly fiend inside, where it counts."

He tucked her hand into his elbow, leading her on a quiet stroll across the property. They nodded at the few people they saw - most back out working in the fields after a short luncheon break - and enjoyed a companionable silence. Jasper relished these times together, however few and far between, had treasured them since the first time he'd laid eyes on Alice so many years ago, when Edward was wounded so badly and had to return home to recover. It was when Jasper had first learned the truth of Edward's parentage, and he'd been the only one Edward trusted enough to take him home.

Alice had been but a girl of fourteen then and had swept into the room wild-eyed and frantic, only calming once she held Edward's hand in her own. She never left his side during the first days when the doctor doubted he would survive, and even when it appeared he'd turned a corner, she was never away from him for long.

Then, she'd approached Jasper one morning as he stood looking out over the creek, lost in thought. She'd eyed him carefully, hands on her hips, then said simply, "Give me your hand."

Jasper was barely eighteen himself, but when his fingers touched hers, he knew there would be no other for him...knew it even before she looked down to trace a line on his palm, then meet his gaze with a soft smile.

"You've kept me waiting a long time," she said. Jasper had the strangest urge to apologize, but before he could, she added, "and I fear I will have to wait a while longer."

"What do you mean?"

Jasper could feel each of her fingers as if they burned into his skin, her eyes dark and intent as she stared into his.

"I must ask for your vow, Jasper Whitlock."

Jasper knew he would promise her anything, but still he asked, "What vow?"

Alice's eyes glazed over for a moment before she focused on him again. "You must protect Edward," she said. "You must stand by his side at all costs."

Jasper had been confused at the request. He and Edward had been friends since he'd first set foot on the _Arrow_, and they'd formed an alliance in those early days. They looked out for each other. Indeed, their friendship had been what had saved Edward from Aro's sword. Jasper knew Edward would do the same for him if the situation were reversed.

"Of course," he said quickly.

"You don't understand, Jasper," Alice had added, her voice taking on an urgent tone. "I am asking you to put Edward before yourself - his needs before your own. It will require great sacrifice on your part, perhaps even your own life.

"I cannot see it clearly, but your destinies are entwined," she continued. "But for all to be as it should be, you must not leave his side, no matter how much you may long to." The last words were spoken wistfully, a sparkle of tears appearing in her eyes. "No matter how much we _both_ may long for it."

"I don't understand," Jasper had begun, his words drifting off as he looked into her eyes. In that moment, he knew he would give her whatever she asked. "All right," he said. "I promise."

And Alice had smiled sadly before releasing his hand. "It will be all right," she said. "We just have to be patient."

Jasper hadn't known then what exactly she meant, but when Edward became captain and named him First Mate, he began to understand. When late one night over a jug of rum Edward had revealed his plan to kill Aro - to find the treasure - it became even more clear.

And each time he'd returned to Charles Towne, only to leave Alice behind when every fiber of his being fought against it, he truly comprehended what his vow entailed.

And still, he kept it. Because he'd promised her, and he never faltered in his duty.

He turned to look at her briefly, even years later awed as he always was by the curve of her cheek, the soft radiance of her skin. She caught his eye, blushing slightly.

"So, Edward said we're headed to Savannah," he said after a while. "To a blue door."

Alice just tipped her head in acknowledgment.

"Was there anything more?" he asked.

Alice just smiled at him. "You have what you need."

Jasper nodded, trusting her as he always did, and they turned down the trail leading to the creek. "We haven't had much time to talk," he said. "How have you been?"

"Fine," she replied. "You know how it is here. Nothing changes, really. Time moves, but it moves rather slowly, it seems."

Jasper raised a tentative hand to stroke her fingers. "I wish..."

Alice shook her head, leaning into him slightly. "If wishes were shillings I'd be the wealthiest woman in South Carolina," she said. "We both have our destinies to fulfill. Our time will come."

"Are you certain?" he asked, looking into her dark eyes. "Is it wrong for me to keep you waiting like this? I often feel like the most selfish man alive-"

"There is not a selfish bone in your body."

"I should release you. Free you to find a husband, have children."

Alice stopped short, eyes flashing as she turned to face him. "You sound like my father."

Jasper walked away a few steps. "Perhaps he is right. He only wants the best for you."

"_I_ choose what's best for me," Alice said, crossing to look him in the eye. "I choose you."

"And what do I have to offer you?" he asked. "No home. No name. No fortune of note..."

"Jasper, you know I want none of those things" she said, lifting her hands to cup his face. "But perhaps it is you who have regrets?" Her smile fell, her eyes searching his. "Do you wish your freedom?"

His hands covered hers. "Never," he said. "There is no other for me, Alice, not in this life. And although I may regret I have but a few stolen moments with you, it is no hardship for me to stand at Edward's side. You know he is like a brother to me.

"And I will wait forever for you, if that is what must be."

Alice smiled. "Then you must trust me. This will all turn out for the best." She glanced over her shoulder briefly, then popped up on her toes to kiss his lips lightly. Jasper wished she would linger, but she stepped back with a smile.

"Besides," she said. "I may be an old maid, but I'm not _that _old. Barely one-and-twenty. There is still time for a husband..." She ran her hands down his arms to take both his hands, a mischievous smile on her face. "And a family."

Her grin was infectious, and Jasper found himself matching it. "You're sure you still want me, then?"

"No one else will do."

At that, Jasper raised a brow, looking around quickly before pulling her down the path into the forest. He led her deeper into the trees, then drew her into his arms.

"In that case, perhaps I need to give you something to remember me by," he said, dipping his head to nuzzle her neck.

Alice giggled. "Just what did you have in mind?"

"Just a few things I've learned from Edward about claiming a lady."

Alice grimaced. "Please, do not mention my brother at a time like this."

Jasper chuckled. "Point taken." He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her tiny waist. Alice's fingers trailed up his arms before linking behind his neck, and he leaned down to kiss her once...twice...before sighing deeply and taking her mouth more possessively. As always, in Alice's arms he felt right...like coming home after a long voyage.

She was his home, after all. No matter where he traveled, she was what steered his life. His true north in the midst of a vast ocean.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for breath, he still held her close, whispering promises of love and hope and a future.

And she whispered them right back.

~0~

Waiting for sunset was torturous.

It seemed to Bella that the sun would never sink below the horizon. She stood with Edward and Jasper in the underbrush where they'd hidden the dinghy, eyes scanning the beach for any signs of life. Edward's father had provided horses for the journey, accompanying them nearly all the way before taking their mounts back home, bidding them all goodbye with a firm nod, and a "God be with you." They'd made it the rest of the way on foot, Bella's heart racing the whole way.

She thought she might expire on the spot when a couple of soldiers on horseback approached, hoof beats muffled in the mud. She gasped when they passed close by their hiding spot, and Edward took her hand, squeezing it tightly in warning. She clung to him, barely daring to breathe until the men rode out of sight down the beach.

"It's all right," Edward murmured, his lips close to her ear. His breath tickled her skin, and she shivered, eyes fluttering closed briefly. She realized she still gripped his hand and released it abruptly, stepping away and nearly stumbling out of the brush.

Edward reached for her, his large hands closing on her hips to steady her.

"Easy," he said, voice low, his eye glittering in the dwindling sunlight. "Don't swoon on me now, Smith."

Bella's skin felt hot, her mouth parched, and she licked her lips to moisten them. His gaze dipped, following the motion, his own mouth curving into a smirk. He met her startled eyes, his fingers tightening on her waist, and Bella's breath caught, dizziness sweeping through her.

So much for her plan not to get close to him. Actually, at that moment, she really couldn't recall her reasoning behind that one. It seemed a bit silly, when being close to him felt so, so good.

A throat cleared. "Sun's going down," Jasper said with a pointed look, beginning to clear away the branches camouflaging the dinghy. "Perhaps you two could continue this discussion later?"

Edward pulled away, focus lingering for a moment before he turned to help Jasper drag the dinghy down to the water. Bella scanned the beach, following behind them and taking Jasper's hand when he offered it to help her into the boat. He froze, turning his head in surprise, and Bella followed his gaze to see Alice standing on the shore a short distance away. Jasper helped Bella into the boat and turned to Edward.

"I'll be but a moment," he said quietly.

Edward nodded, and Bella settled on the bench, watching Jasper approach Alice. The two spoke in quiet tones for a moment, their voices lost amidst the crashing waves. Then, Alice reached up to her nape, pulling the ribbon from her hair and tying it around Jasper's wrist. He lifted his hand, touching her face in almost reverence, and Bella looked away, embarrassed at witnessing such an intimate moment. She caught sight of Edward standing on the other side of the dinghy, gaze focused resolutely out over the water. He caught her eye briefly and cleared his throat.

"The winds are with us," he said. "Should be a short trip to Savannah."

Bella nodded. "That's good." She examined his profile, the strong line of his jaw...his throat, now fully on display since he'd traded his fine suit and cravat for his usual open-necked shirt, breeches and boots. He swallowed, and in the dwindling light, she could just make out the movement of his Adam's apple as it bobbed. He turned toward her again, and she flushed, embarrassed to be caught ogling.

She needed to get better at this.

He was silent, so she snuck a look at him, only to find him regarding her carefully. He licked his lips. "Smith...I..."

Jasper, of course, chose that moment to step up to the dinghy, throwing a large cloth bag in with a thud. "From Alice," he said to Bella. "She said it's something you'll find useful in the coming days." He leaned down to push the dinghy off the shore, glancing up at Edward, who still had yet to move.

"Edward? Are you ready?"

Edward cleared his throat and set to aiding him in the task. They stepped into the water, giving the front of the boat a shove before getting in and settling at the oars. Bella looked over her shoulder to find Alice still standing on the beach, the wind whipping at her skirts and her hair flying wildly around her head. Bella lifted a hand to wave, and Alice returned the gesture before fading away in the darkness.

Bella turned back around as they made their way slowly out of the harbor and into open water, silence thick around them. Edward refused to meet her eyes, his own gaze fixed at some point over her shoulder. Jasper's melancholy was a tangible thing, and Bella's heart broke a little when she spotted the yellow ribbon peeking out from the edge of his shirt sleeve. The quiet dip of the oars set an easy rhythm, and before long they'd left the shoreline behind, surrounded only by dark water as far as they could see.

When the hulking shadow of a ship appeared before them, Bella let out a sigh of relief. Edward looked over his shoulder, then nudged Jasper to gain his attention. The two stopped rowing abruptly, exchanging a concerned glance.

"What's wrong?" she asked. Edward pressed a finger to his lips, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, his words sending a chill down her spine..

"That's not the _Arrow._**"**

Bella sat back, mouth gaping in horror as she looked up at the ship before them, men rushing about the deck, carrying lanterns and shouting orders as it headed toward the harbor. She gasped when she finally recognized it as the _Intrepid_, Commodore Hunter's ship.

Alice was right.

Jasper tapped Edward's arm, pointing off to the left, and Bella squinted, barely able to discern the shape of another ship in the distance. Edward nodded and the two began to row again, tension in every stroke of the oars. All three of them kept their eyes fixed on the _Intrepid_ as they pulled farther away, waiting for someone to shout - to notice them and spring into action. But apparently the lanterns on Hunter's ship were enough to diminish their view of the waters surrounding them, because Bella heard no alert - no sign that the Crown ship had spotted either the dinghy or the _Arrow_.

Still, she didn't draw a steady breath until they'd reached Edward's ship and her feet stepped firmly on the deck.

With quiet efficiency, the crew set sail, heading away from Charles Towne and Commodore Hunter as quickly as possible. They had to head north and east to avoid him, circling around to approach Savannah once they were certain he was no longer a threat. Edward dismissed Jasper with a nod, turning to discuss their course with Crowley, and after a short chat with Jacob, Bella took the opportunity to escape belowdecks. She started toward the captain's quarters, then decided she really needed some time alone with her thoughts...time to absorb all she'd learned about Edward and his family. Time to think about what was obviously growing between them and what exactly she should do about it.

So instead she headed toward the hold, seeking out the small storage room where she'd slept while masquerading as Smith. Out of habit, she quickly scanned the hallway, although there was no reason anyone would question her activities now, before shoving the door open and slipping into the room. To her surprise, it wasn't dark inside, but lit by the soft glow of a lantern sitting on an upturned crate. Jasper looked up from where he sat on the other side of the crate, a jug of rum in his hands.

"Are you lost?" he asked, lifting the jug to his lips and taking a deep swallow.

"No...I..." she began. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude..." She started to turn back to the door.

"Not at all," he said. "I suppose I wouldn't mind some company, if you don't mind me getting roaring drunk." He took another gulp from the jug, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and eyeing her carefully. "In fact, you look like you could use a nip yourself."

Bella hesitated, then realized that perhaps that was exactly what she needed. Not to dwell and think and obsess about everything, but just forget about it - if only for a few hours. She stepped back inside, closing the door behind her before crossing the room. Jasper reached over to push another crate toward her and she perched on it, trying not to stare at the ribbon tied around his wrist. He noticed her interest, however, setting the jug on the table as he fingered it lightly.

"She wanted me to have something to remember her by," he murmured, his words already beginning to slur. "As if I could ever forget."

"I'm sorry."

"No need," he said, reaching for the jug and taking another drink before offering it to Bella with a raised brow. Bella took it from him, tipping it to her lips and taking a tentative sip. The rum burned going down, but she'd grown somewhat accustomed to it as of late, and she took another swallow before handing it back to Jasper.

They sat in silence for a while, the only sound the glug of rum as they passed the jug back and forth. Bella's body filled with languid warmth, her mind growing soft and muzzy.

Finally, Jasper spoke.

"You want to talk about it?"

Immediately, Bella's thoughts flew to Edward. She frowned. "Not really. You?"

"Not really." He tipped his crate back, rocking on one end. He took another drink, swishing the rum around in his mouth before swallowing. When he looked at her, Bella noticed his eyes seemed a bit glazed. Of course, it was getting more difficult to tell, since there seemed to be two of him.

"It's just that I made a vow," he said, leaning forward, missing his knee with his elbow a couple of times before making contact and bracing himself. "She made me promise, you see. And because of that promise, I can't be with her."

"What kind of promise?"

He waved a hand in the air. "To watch over Edward, of course. To protect him. As if he needs protecting!"

Bella swayed a little in her seat, gripping it slightly as she tried to focus. "Alice made you promise?"

Jasper laughed. "Who else?"

"And so now you have to stay with Edward and you can't be with her?"

Jasper snapped his fingers. "Aye."

"But...that's so..." Bella searched for the word, but it seemed to elude her. "It's so...so..." She hiccupped. "..._sad_."

"Aye." Jasper sighed.

"Because you _love_ her," Bella said mournfully, suddenly overcome with emotion. She reached for Jasper's arm, almost falling off her crate in the attempt. "You _love _her," she repeated, a bit louder.

"Aye."

She stood, knees wobbling for a moment before crossing to the porthole. "So now, she's out there...and you're stuck on this stupid ship!" Bella kicked the wall, then again for good measure.

"S'not stupid," he slurred.

"It is!" She kicked it again.

Jasper belched.

"That's disgusting," Bella said, nose wrinkling.

"Beg pardon, Your Majesty."

She waved a hand in dismissal, swiping up the jug to take another swig. "You shouldn't give up on Alice," she said, losing her balance and sitting down heavily on her crate. "You can't let all of this nonsense get in the way of true love."

"You're one to talk," he snapped back, taking the jug from her.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean you and Edward, of course," he said, stifling another belch. "The touching and looking and breathing...it's ridic...ridic..." Jasper shook his head. "Ridiculous!" he exclaimed with a satisfied smile.

Bella blinked. "Breathing?"

"You know..." He pressed his hand to his chest, feigning a gasp. "All the gasping and breath-catching and panting..."

"I never panted!"

"I was talking about Edward."

At that, Bella's face heated. Jasper wagged a finger at her accusingly. "You like him."

"I do not!"

"You do!"

Bella gave a resigned sigh. "It doesn't matter." She leaned forward onto the crate they were using as a table. It was surprisingly comfortable. "The thing is: he's a pirate," she confided.

Jasper snorted. "I'm aware of that."

She laid her head down on the crate, forehead resting on the wood slats as she mumbled. "So his life is the sea and all that rubbish. There's no place for someone like me."

Jasper was silent for a long moment, and when Bella rolled her head on the makeshift table to look at him, she half expected to find him asleep. Instead, he regarded her with heavy-lidded eyes.

"You shouldn't give up on him," he said, mirroring her words from earlier.

"To what end?" she asked, weight heavy in her heart. "After this is all over, we'll go our separate ways."

"A lot of things can happen before this is all over."

"I suppose," she conceded. "But nothing that will change the outcome."

Jasper smiled. "You can't know that. Alice always says the best thing about the future is it can always be changed."

She straightened, head swimming. "Do you really believe that?" She had a fleeting thought that she might regret it in the morning, but reached for the jug anyway.

Jasper took another gulp before handing it to her. "I'm not sure," he admitted, "but Alice does. And she should know."

Bella nodded and took another drink as they lapsed into silence, each lost in their own thoughts - a silence only broken by the slosh of rum and the gentle sounds of the sea as they cut a path to their next destination.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Teaser for Chapter 14 will be up on The Fictionators (www dot fictionators dot com) on Monday.

And don't forget there are two – count 'em – TWO Cutlass outtakes up for grabs as part of the **Fandom 4 No Kid Hungry** campaign (see **fandomcause dot info** for all the details.) Anyone who contributes at least $10 will get a compilation with stories from a whole mess of authors – including a Cutlass outtake that will explain (among other things) how Charlie got the cutlass. In addition, if we reach our goal of raising $2000 to help feed hungry kids, I will write a bonus outtake once Cutlass is complete – to be decided on by the readers.

See you Tuesday!


	14. Chapter 14: And a Bottle of Rum

_**The expedition has landed in Boston, and is journeying south. Each day I draw nearer my goal, yet fear of them, and of the dread pirates in this area, force me to take care when I'd much rather act quickly.**_

_**Once I find what I seek, I now know I must also find a way to protect it.**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 2 February, 1666**_

**Chapter 14: And a Bottle of Rum**

Edward scanned the horizon through his spyglass but could make out nothing in the darkness. No sign of a pursuing ship, and they were so far out into the open sea that there was no sign of the shoreline, either. Only his compass and the stars above assured him of their course. He slapped the glass closed, stowing it in his coat pocket.

"I'm to my quarters," he told Crowley as he surrendered the wheel. "We sail through the night. Wake me when we draw close to Savannah."

"Aye, Sir."

"And if there is any sign that bastard, Hunter, is about..."

Crowley nodded. "I'll send word immediately, Captain."

"Good." Edward cast a glance across the deck, wondering where Bella had disappeared to. "Good," he repeated distractedly, turning to head for his quarters, a strange kind of excitement brewing in his chest. His mind had been occupied since they'd returned to the ship, focused on their destination and evading Hunter. But now that the danger seemed past, he had a sudden urge to see Bella again, memories of their encounter in the barn flashing through his memory, searing his skin.

He wasn't certain, to be honest, exactly what would happen once they were again alone together. He knew what he wanted – what his body craved – but he also knew what his mind reasoned in more rational moments.

It seemed mind and body were at crossed purposes when it came to Bella Swan.

Still, he had to rest, didn't he? And to do so meant returning to his quarters. The fact that his steps quickened as he neared the doorway leading below had more to do with the call of his bed than the fact that Bella would be there also, lying on her cot just across the room.

Soft and warm, pliant in sleep.

Edward swallowed, shaking his head to clear it. He was a grown man, for heaven's sake, not a besotted school boy. His life was laid out before him. A life on the sea – most likely a short one – centered on vengeance and treasure and pleasure...

_Pleasure._

A flash of memory assaulted him – Bella in his arms, clinging to his neck as her mouth opened below his. The warm wetness of her tongue...the soft curves surrendering tantalizingly to his fingertips...the quiet whimpers...

Edward stopped abruptly outside his door, fighting an urge to slam his fist into the wood. He needed to gain control of himself. Bella Swan, despite recent evidence to the contrary, was a lady – a lady destined to return to polite society, a place where he could never again set foot. Once she'd seen justice for her father's murder, she would take her part of the treasure and make a life for herself...get married...have a family.

Another man would feel her pleasures one day, a man more deserving. A man able to give Bella what he could not. The thought left a sour taste in Edward's mouth, but he knew it was the only way.

After all, Edward knew the realities of the world. There were ladies. There were servants. And there were whores.

And he knew which were destined for him.

So, with a deep breath to solidify his resolve, Edward squared his shoulders and entered the room.

He needn't have been so worried, however, because when he looked over to Bella's cot, he found the blankets neatly tucked and undisturbed. His gaze swept the room.

"Smith?"

But there was no response. With a frown, he made his way to his desk to light a lantern, but the illumination still did not reveal her presence.

_Where was she?_

Edward took the lantern to the door, sticking his head out the door and quickly scanning the hallway.

"Smith?"

When greeted only with the silence belowdecks and the faint sounds from above, Edward's thoughts first flew to Newton. It would be just like the wench to go flitting about the ship in the middle of the night with no thought to her safety, and – despite his recent punishment – Newton would no doubt take advantage. The bastard was never one to think of the consequences of his actions, and a few moments of pleasure would far outweigh any lingering pain from the lash, or Bella's bucket, for that matter.

Not to mention, Edward was certain Newton felt he had a score to settle with Bella. His pride had taken a beating, and Edward had noticed the hateful looks cast her way and had perhaps dismissed them when he should have taken action. With a grimace of determination, he strode purposefully across the deck, ignoring Crowley's questioning glance, and back below to the gundeck. He held the lantern aloft, peering around the cannons and piles of balls and shot and weaving between the swinging hammocks filled with snoring crewmen. He paused outside the door of the small room where the Master Gunner bunked, glancing around before lifting his fist to knock.

He stopped, hand raised midair, at the distinctive sounds coming from within. Holding his breath, Edward pressed his ear to the door, shock turning to red-hot fury at the masculine moans of uninhibited pleasure drifting through the wood. Without another thought, he burst through the door, clutching the lantern in his white-knuckled fist.

"Unhand her!" he exclaimed, eyes wild as he reached for his sword.

He needn't have bothered.

Newton gaped up at him from where he lay on his narrow bunk, sheets and blankets shoved down around his legs. He stared at the captain, frozen in shock, his face pale in the lantern light, the bruises under his eyes and around his swollen nose dark against his skin. Edward's brow furrowed in confusion after a moment when he realized his Master Gunner was alone in bed. He spun around quickly, searching for Bella, but the room was decidedly empty. Turning back to Newton, who still had yet to move, his gaze traveled down the man's form, widening in shocked awareness when he found his hand still wrapped around his cock.

Edward quickly looked back up at Newton's face. The gunner seemed to gain back his faculties, because he sat up quickly and reached down to pull the blankets up over his lap before clearing his throat.

"Is there a problem, Cap'n?" he asked. "Are we under attack?" He reached over the edge of his bed for his trousers, ready to report to his station.

Edward shook his head, turning away from the man's gaze. "No...no...I thought...I heard..." he stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Newton stiffened slightly. "S'no rule against a man gettin' his pleasure on his own time, is there?" he asked.

"Of course not." Edward backed toward the door. "Just...be sure ye get enough sleep," he blustered, covering his embarrassment with a gruff order. "I'll not have ye falling asleep at yer post!"

Newton eyed him carefully before reclining back on the bed. "Aye, Captain."

Edward nodded, turning toward the door. "Carry on," he muttered before walking out and closing the door tightly behind him. He leaned back, pounding his head lightly against it.

"Sir?" Newton called from inside.

"Nothing," Edward replied, turning to walk away before he embarrassed himself any further.

He shook it off, thoughts quickly returning to the task at hand. Holding the lantern aloft, he picked his way back through the gundeck, pausing when he spotted the large frame of Jacob Black, arms and legs dangling out of his hammock as he snored lightly. He approached him, reaching out to nudge his shoulder.

"Black," he hissed. Then louder, "Black!"

Jacob startled awake, nearly falling out of the hammock as he tried to get to his feet. He gave up, half-sitting up instead.

"Captain? What is it?" he asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Have you seen Bella?"

"Bella?" he repeated. "No, not since you came back from the mainland." Jacob's thoughts evidently followed Edward's, because he straightened, alert at once. "Newton," he said.

"No," Edward assured him. "I just checked. Newton is...alone."

"Oh, well, that's good then." Jacob relaxed slightly but made to get out of the hammock. "I'll help you search for her."

"No." Edward held up a hand. "No need. Most likely she went for a walk about the ship and is back in my quarters already."

"Are you sure?" Jacob asked, but he was already yawning.

"Sleep. I'll come back if I need you."

Jacob just nodded and closed his eyes as Edward left, turning down the hall leading to the hold. Perhaps Bella was snooping about – that would be so like her – and lost track of time. He poked his head in several of the storage rooms as he made his way methodically down the hall, peering around the stacks of crates and barrels. He half thought he might come upon Jasper as well. The man rarely drank, but it was not unusual, after a visit to Charles Towne, for his first mate to end up in a dark corner with a bottle of rum or two. Edward overlooked it for the most part because Jasper always showed up at his post the next morning, ready to work, bleary eyes and an unshaven jaw the only indication of the previous night's indulgences.

Not that Edward would begrudge his friend a night of drowning his sorrows in any regard. He had more than earned it.

Edward rounded the corner and paused, tilting his head at the muffled sounds of voices behind the door in front of him. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but after a moment, raucous laughter broke out, and he could identify one of the voices as decidedly female.

_Bella._

Edward breathed in a rush of relief, quickly followed by gritting his teeth in frustration and annoyance. Here he was, worried about Bella's safety, waking his crewmen up at all hours in his concern, and she'd been down here laughing without a concern in the world with-

_Who was she with?_

She laughed again, light and bubbly, a lower-toned chuckle accompanying the sound. Edward could stand it no longer. He burst through the door, ready to brain whichever of his men had the audacity to approach his woman...to laugh with her... to...

He came to an abrupt stop at the scene before him – Bella perched on an upturned crate across from Jasper, who had apparently abandoned his own crate to sprawl on the floor, back propped against the wall. A small lantern sat on another crate between them, a jug of rum balanced precariously on the edge and a second, empty jug on the floor at Bella's feet. The laughter cut off when he entered the room, and they both stared up at him with mirroring expressions –

mouths slightly open and wide eyes blinking slowly.

"What is going on here-"

"Edward!" Bella sprang to her feet. "I mean...Captain...I mean...Captain Edward!" She started toward him, stumbling slightly when she kicked the empty rum jug. She stared at it as if mildly offended for a moment before continuing on.

"Smith? Are you drunk?" He looked at Jasper accusingly, but the first mate just shrugged, taking up the jug for another gulp.

"I'm not drunk!" she exclaimed, swaying before him slightly, then hiccupping. She pressed her fingers to her lips. "I beg your pardon," she said, glancing back at Jasper before bursting into giggles. Jasper started to laugh as well, sliding even further down the wall, and Edward fought the urge to throw them both overboard.

"Whitlock! She's loaded to the gunwales! How could you let her get like this?"

"Hey!" Bella narrowed her eyes, poking him in the chest. "Don't get mad at Jasper!" She poked him again. "He's a good" —_poke— _".man." _Poke. _"Even if he is a pirate."

"Ho, me hearty!" Jasper called from the floor, raising the jug in salute. At Edward's glare, he added, "Not my fault, Cap'n. The wench has a taste for rum." He belched loudly, and Bella giggled again.

"I beg your pardon," Jasper slurred.

"I do like it," Bella whispered loudly, leaning toward Edward with a conspiratorial wink. "It makes me feel..._warm_." She swayed on her feet and reached out to steady herself, her palm landing on Edward's chest. He hissed at the touch, taken by surprise at the heat of her hand seeping through his shirt. She looked up at him, eyes glassy, and licked her lips, her gaze dropping to his mouth before slowly rising to meet his. Edward's breath caught in his throat, mesmerized by the invitation in her eyes, and for a moment he considered accepting it.

Then she hiccupped again and began to giggle, and Edward abandoned all romantic thoughts with her in such a state.

"Come on, then, Smith," he said with a resigned laugh. "Let's get you to bed, yes?"

"To bed, _yes_!" She exclaimed with a leering grin, turning to wave to Jasper. "Good night, Jasper. I'm going to bed with Edward!" She laughed again, reaching for Edward's arm as he opened the door.

He shook his head at her with an amused half smile. "Make sure to put out the lantern," he told Jasper. "I'll not have you burning down my ship."

"Aye, Captain," Jasper slurred, leaning forward to blow out the lantern before curling up on the floor and tugging his discarded coat over his shoulders as a makeshift blanket. He was already half-asleep by the time Edward closed the door behind them.

Bella stumbled, clinging to his arm, and he disentangled himself from her grip, shifting to hold her up around the waist. She leaned heavily against him, her scent mingling with the rum on her breath in a surprisingly pleasant way. Edward led her down the hall, leaning down to whisper as they neared the gundeck.

"Be quiet, now," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. "The men need their rest."

Bella shivered in response, but said nothing as they made their way through the crowded gundeck, then up to the main deck and out into the fresh air. She leaned back, nearly falling over.

"Look at all the stars!" she exclaimed, stumbling and sliding out of his grip and collapsing to the deck in a heap, her skirts billowing about her. She blinked in surprise, then burst out laughing. Edward heard another choked chuckle from across the deck, where Crowley was watching them in amusement.

"Everything all right, Cap'n?" he asked wryly.

"As you were," Edward muttered, bending down to sweep Bella up into his arms. She half-shrieked, arms linking around his neck as he adjusted his grip.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her tone a mixture of indignance and confusion. "I'm quite capable of walking, you know."

"Apparently not," Edward retorted as he continued toward his quarters, the lantern dangling from his fingers at her side. "Bloody hell, Smith. You really can't hold your spirits, can you?"

"I can hold them just fine, thank you," she grumbled. "Although, if you think about it, that's rather ridiculous, isn't it?" She hiccupped. "How can you hold spirits? They'd slip right through your fingers." She wiggled her fingers to emphasize her point. "Unless you have a cup..." Her words trailed off as Edward pulled her closer, guarding her head as they ducked through the doorway leading belowdecks. Edward felt her nose pressed against his neck, and she inhaled deeply.

He loosened his grip, eyeing her warily. "Did you just _smell_ me, Smith?"

"You smell nice," she murmured, eyes blinking sleepily. "Like soap and leather and..._man_." Her head lolled back, and he thought she might have added "delicious," but he couldn't be sure.

With a little fumbling, he made it into his quarters, depositing Bella on his bed as carefully as he could. When he straightened to move away, she reached for him with a whimper.

"Don't go," she mumbled.

Edward couldn't help a fond smile as he brushed her hair back from her flushed face. "I'll sleep on the cot tonight."

"No."

"No?"

Bella looked up at him briefly before her eyes fluttered closed again. "I might have a bad dream. You might have a bad dream. You should...stay with me...just in case."

Edward hesitated, unsure how to proceed. He didn't want to take advantage of Bella in her current state, but at the same time, that cot looked extremely uncomfortable. He eyed it warily, shifting on his feet in indecision.

"Now you're a gentleman?" Bella asked wryly.

Edward snorted. "I'm no-" he began. "Fine, then, shove over," he muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling off his boots. He stripped down to his shirt and breeches and slipped into bed, pulling the blankets up over the both of them. "Don't say I didn't try to protect your virtue," he said, glancing down at Bella curled up beside him. She only snored lightly in response, already asleep.

Edward exhaled heavily. "Smith, you'll be the death of me, I fear," he murmured, reaching out to run a finger down her cheek. She sighed, leaning into the touch slightly, and he pulled away, watching her sleep for a moment. Unable to resist, he sat up slightly and leaned down to press a chaste kiss on the side of her mouth.

"Good night, Smith. Sweet dreams."

Her lips curved a little in response, and Edward chuckled under his breath as he reached over to turn out the lantern and settle into much-needed sleep.

~0~

Off the coast of South Carolina, Commodore James Hunter sat at his desk in his quarters, brooding and sullen. He didn't even bother to light a lantern, his mood so foul the darkness seemed a welcome respite, surrounding him in a sightless cloud so he needn't lay eyes on those who'd failed him so completely.

Lieutenant Cameron entered, carrying his own lantern, and the commodore squinted at the unwelcome glare. Cameron quickly slipped the lantern behind his back to shield him slightly.

"Any word?" Hunter grunted.

"Nothing useful, Sir," Cameron replied. "The first mate, Whitlock, was spotted in town asking questions, but no one made mention of Cullen."

"Of course they didn't," Hunter spat, standing up so quickly his chair toppled over. "But where Whitlock is, Cullen is. Everyone knows that."

Cameron had no idea how to respond to that, so he said nothing.

"What of the witch?" he asked. Hunter knew that Cullen consulted with his half-sister, a fortune-teller of some regard in the area. He prided himself on the knowledge of the pirate's family and kept the information close and protected. _He_ was the one who would bring Cullen in, not some up-and-comer looking to steal his promotion from under his nose. No, he – and a few of his most trusted crew members – were the only ones who knew of Cullen's connection to South Carolina, and Hunter aimed to keep it that way.

"She claimed not to have seen Cullen for nearly a year."

"Of course she did," he snapped. "Did you press her?"

Hunter could hear Cameron swallow thickly, his next words measured. "Her father is a viscount, Sir."

"I'm aware her father is a viscount, Lieutenant!" The commodore was distinctly aware of that fact. Dishonored by scandal and living in near-isolation, Lord Cullen still held the title and the wealth, which meant Hunter could not enact more aggressive means of persuasion. "I assume Lord Cullen was equally unhelpful?"

"He assured me that he had washed his hands of his son," Cameron replied, "and that if he encountered him, he would be sure to surrender him to the Crown."

Hunter laughed humorlessly. "Noble citizen," he muttered. "So Cullen was here, and we missed him – probably by hours, maybe even minutes – how did that bastard get by us?"

Cameron cleared his throat. "We can dispatch more men in the morning," he offered. "Canvass the town...question people more thoroughly."

Hunter waved a hand, righting his chair and taking a seat. "It's no use. Cullen is sneaky. He'd have left no sign of where he's headed." He lit a lantern, finally, examining the map stretched across his deck. "Nothing to do now but head south. You know he's after Aro, and I've word he's been spotted near Hispaniola."

"Aye, Captain."

"Tell the men to keep an eye out for Cullen. Hell, for _any_ ships along the way."

"Aye, Sir."

"Dismissed."

Cameron tipped his head in acknowledgement and left to follow the commodore's orders. Hunter examined the map before him, running a finger along the edges of the land masses, swirling it through the blue of the sea.

"Where are you, One-Eyed Eddie?" he murmured to himself. "What are you up to?"

He stared at the map long into the night, finally falling asleep with his head cradled in his arms and his commitment to catch the elusive pirate burning in his chest.

~0~

A grinding roar that threatened to split Bella's head in two woke her from a deep sleep. She struggled to force her eyelids open, but they seemed weighed down, the very motion sending a rush of pain through her sockets. She groaned, then immediately regretted the action as another wave of pain shot through her aching head.

_What was wrong with her? Was she dying? _

_And what was that bloody racket?_

She tried to stretch but found herself unable to, something warm and hard pressed up against her side, her hand resting on...

_Good lord._

Slowly, she took stock of her surroundings, realizing she was not in her usual cot, but in Edward's large and, she had to admit, particularly comfortable bed.

And she was not alone.

Lying next to her, snoring loudly – the noise that had so inconveniently awakened her. Why was it so bloody _loud?_ – lay Edward, sprawled on his back, his arm across his face.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

Bella was sprawled half on top of him, dressed only in her shift, which was currently gathered up around her thighs. Her leg was thrown over his, curled around his calf, her hand up underneath his shirt and resting on his warm and muscled chest.

_What had she done?_

The night before was a muddled blur of rum and laughter...dizzy images of Jasper...and Edward. Yes, Edward was there.

She rolled her eyes, then fought back another groan at the resulting agony spearing through her head. Of course Edward was there; otherwise, why would she currently be in bed with him?

She was in bed with Edward.

_Bloody hell._

Bella steeled herself against the pain, moving slowly and quietly so as not to wake him. She tried to pull her arm away, but Edward stirred, his hand flying up to still her movement.

She froze, holding her breath as she watched him. Maybe he would just go back to sleep.

His good eye drifted open.

No such luck.

He turned to her, blinking in sleepy surprise for a moment, then his lips curled into his trademark smirk.

"Good morning, Smith," he said, voice raspy and sending an inexplicable rush of heat through Bella's body. Her breath hitched – and he noticed, his hot gaze dipping to her parted lips. He rolled over, up onto his elbow, and reached toward her, cupping his hand around the back of her neck.

"I could get used to this," he murmured, leaning toward her. He was going to kiss her. Bella's heart pounded...her head pounded...her stomach...

Her stomach...

"Oh God," she muttered, swallowing thickly as the nausea hit her. Her hand flew to her mouth. "I think I'm going to-"

Edward grimaced. "Chamber pot's on the floor," he said, just before Bella dragged herself across the bed, head hanging over the edge as she retched pitifully.

"Well, Smith," Edward said, lying back with his hands tucked behind his head as she vomited what felt like her entire being into that chamber pot. "I have to say you certainly know how to ruin the moment."

Bella just groaned and wished - quite fervently - that she might just curl up into a ball and die.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Don't forget that a **Cutlass **outtake will be part of the **Fandom 4 No Kid Hungry** compilation. With a minimum donation of $10, you'll get stories from a bunch of writers, including the Cutlass outtake that will address, among other things, how Charlie came to get the cutlass. In addition, if we reach the $2000 goal for the fundraiser, I will write a bonus, readers' choice outtake once the main story is complete. Go to **fandomcause (dot) info **for all the details.

Teaser for Ch. 15 will be up Monday on The Fictionators (**www dot fictionators dot com.**)

Thanks for reading - See you Tuesday!


	15. Chapter 15: The Search for the Blue Door

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **The lovely **Ange de Laube **has made an amazing blinkie for **Cutlass! **I'm so excited about it. If you get a chance, check it out at http:/angedelaube (dot)wordpress(dot)com/2012/05/07/new-blinkie-cutlass-by-tkegl-reviewed-by-amazing-ordinary_vamp/?utm_source=twitterfeed&utm_medium=twitter Thanks so much to **Vampire Extraordinaire** for her wonderful review as well!

As always, thanks to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

* * *

><p><em><strong>After weeks of following false information and trails leading nowhere, I finally feel I am making progress. <strong>_

_**Mary has questions, but I fear giving her the answers. 'Tis only for her own protection, although she fails to see the logic of my actions. **_

_**Still, I know once I find what I seek, she will forgive me. And I can truly be the husband she deserves.**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 14 March, 1666**_

**Chapter 15: The Search for the Blue Door**

"What happened?" Bella asked once the contents of her stomach had been fully eliminated. She glared down at the chamber pot, swallowing another rush of nausea as she rolled over onto her back with an agonized moan. "I think I might be dying."

Edward chuckled. "The perils of overindulgence, Smith," he said – - a mite too gleefully, she thought.

"Do you have to speak so loudly?" she muttered, her head throbbing. "And can you stop breathing, please? It's giving me a headache."

"Stop breathing?" he repeated. "'Fraid not." The bed dipped, and Edward got up, shuffling around the room before coming back to sit next to her. She groaned at the movement, but then started as Edward laid a cool, damp cloth on her forehead. It felt so good on her clammy skin, she couldn't keep in a relieved sigh.

"Here," Edward said quietly. "Drink this."

Bella peered up through half-opened eyes to see him holding a cup of water. Slowly and carefully, she propped herself up on an elbow to take the proffered drink. Once it touched her tongue, she gulped at it eagerly.

"Easy," Edward warned. "Unless you want that to end up in the chamber pot as well."

Bella grimaced, sitting up fully and sipping at the cup as she handed the cloth back to him. "Thank you," she said.

"Think nothing of it," he replied, gaze intent.

Bella squirmed under his scrutiny, focusing her attentions on the cup and its delicious contents. Unfortunately, as often happens, it soon emptied, leaving her with nothing to distract her.

Edward reached for it. "Better?" he asked as he set it on the side table, discreetly shoving the chamber pot away with his foot.

Bella nodded, avoiding his gaze and picking at the blankets absently.

"So," she said, swallowing nervously. "You didn't answer my question."

"Question?"

"About what happened...last night," she explained. "How I...uh...ended up..." She waved at the bed, then realized the sheets were down around her hips and quickly pulled them up to her chin.

Edward snorted. "It's a little late for modesty, isn't it, Smith?"

Bella flushed. "I didn't...uh...we didn't..." she stammered. "Did we?"

Edward leaned forward on his arm, green eye glittering wickedly. "You don't remember?"

"Ummm...not really," she said, voice cracking.

"Well, Smith, I must admit, I'm hurt," Edward murmured, reaching out to trace a finger over the top of her hand where it peeked out of the blankets. "After all we've shared together..."

"We shared?" Her eyes widened. "What exactly did we share?"

"Everything." He wiggled his eyebrows and Bella gulped, her stomach flipping, but not from nausea this time.

"Surely you wouldn't..." She gaped at him, horrified. "I was hardly in the condition to..."

Edward laughed, wincing when Bella pressed her hands to her head. "Sorry," he said, lowering his voice. "Don't worry, Smith. Your virtue is intact."

"It is?" Bella sighed in relief. "I mean. It _is_. Of course it is. I wasn't worried."

"Of course you weren't." Edward smirked. "Not that you didn't try to force my hand."

"I did not!"

"You did." Edward shook his head ruefully. "Quite shameless, really. Don't you recall telling me I smelled _delicious_?"

Bella's hands flew up to cover her flaming cheeks. Because she did remember something of the sort.

"...and then you begged me to share your bed."

"Oh no," Bella moaned into her hands.

"...and then stripping your clothes off in the middle of the night..."

She gaped at him. "I didn't!"

"Oh, but Smith..." He eyed her shift, then glanced pointedly to the pile of clothing -– her dress -– hanging haphazardly off the back of the chair, as if it had been flung there in haste. "You most certainly did."

Bella groaned, flopping down on the bed and pulling the covers over her head. Perhaps she could just live there, hidden under the pillows and blankets, and no one would ever know her shame.

Edward laughed, pulling at the blankets. "Come now, Smith. No need to be shy with me. Not after all we've been through."

"I want to die," Bella grumbled into the sheets.

"No need," he said, finally granting her a reprieve. "Nothing happened."

She peered up at him, her face still smashed into the mattress. "Nothing?"

He shrugged. "Nothing important," he said. "Just a bit of friendliness inspired by too much rum. You're hardly the first to succumb."

"Friendliness?"

"Crowley once offered his fortune to a comely wench in exchange for a dance, you know. And McCarty would be wed to half the whores in Tortuga if anyone took him seriously."

"So how did I end up in my shift?" she asked nervously.

Edward chuckled. "You did strip your gown off in the middle of the night," he said. "After threatening to brain me for being 'so bloody hot.'"

Bella flushed, but couldn't keep from laughing herself. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'll never touch rum again. I was right to think it was evil."

"Oh, don't abstain on my account, Smith," Edward said with a leering grin. "I rather enjoyed you with fewer inhibitions."

Bella raised an eyebrow, the effect a bit diminished since her head was still half-under the pillow. "Don't get your hopes up," she muttered. "My inhibitions are in fine form once again, and I don't plan on losing them any time soon."

Edward shook his head with a sad frown. "Pity."

Bella sat up to throw the pillow at him. Unfortunately, Edward was a bit faster on his feet and evaded the attack, grabbing his jacket and boots and heading for the door.

"We should be near Savannah," he told her as he reached for the knob. "If you plan to accompany us ashore, I suggest you and your inhibitions get dressed." He grimaced, his gaze dipping to the floor. "And I know I promised no chamber pots, but I think in this case, it's your responsibility."

Bella couldn't even find it in herself to argue. She jumped to her feet as Edward left the room, splashing her face with cool water and cleaning her grimy teeth. Surprisingly, once she'd emptied her stomach and cleaned up a bit, she felt quite a bit better. Her pounding headache had eased to a low throb – hardly pleasant, but definitely tolerable. She began to get dressed, then her gaze fell on the bag Alice had sent for her. She still hadn't had time to examine its contents, but decided she probably should, since Alice obviously thought it was important.

Bella opened the bag and peered inside, a slow smile lighting her face.

She'd never doubt Alice again.

~0~

Edward was still grinning when he emerged on deck, the early-morning sun making him pause to become accustomed to the light before he continued toward Crowley, stopping along the way to speak with a few crew men and check on their work. As expected, Jasper was already chatting with the Quartermaster, his voice cracked and raspy, eyes red and bleary, but attention focused on the task at hand. He turned toward Edward as he approached.

"Dinghy's ready, Captain," he said.

Edward nodded in acknowledgment. "Tell McCarty and Black to accompany us," he said. "Jenks as well. We need more eyes to find what we're looking for as quickly as possible."

He turned to Crowley. "I know you've not slept-"

"Don't need sleep, Cap'n," Crowley said quickly. "Bit of coffee and I'll be right as rain."

"Good man," Edward replied. "Keep a weather eye out for Hunter," he warned. "Keep moving and watch for my signal."

"Aye, Captain."

"And don't forget-" The rest of his command was lost when he saw Jasper's glance over his shoulder and resulting smirk.

"I take it Bella will be going with us again," he said.

"Sometimes it's easier to succumb to the wench's whims than to fight them," Edward said gruffly.

"Wench?" Jasper said wryly. "You sure about that?"

"What are you talking ab…" Edward spun around to see what Jasper was looking at, the question dying on his lips.

Bella had traded her green gown from the night before for a simple white shirt, open at the collar, and dark breeches tucked into knee-high black boots. Her hair was pulled back in a tight queue and topped by a black tricorn. A dark blue coat with brass buttons hung open on her slight frame -– though it fit perfectly, as if made for her, the flared hem swinging around her knees. A sword swung at her hip, and as she strode toward him, she gripped the hilt, her chin lifted in challenge.

"What are you...?" Edward gaped at her. "Why are you...?"

"Aren't they wonderful?" Bella asked, spinning around so the skirt of the coat flared out. "Alice gave them to me. And they actually_ fit_!"

"You can't...It's not..." Edward still couldn't seem to form his thoughts into words. His eyes drifted from her knees, to her thighs -– God help him, her _thighs _– continuing up without conscious thought to her bosom, which was definitely _not_ bound as it had been when she was in disguise.

He swallowed, fighting down a surge of irrational lust. "You are _not _leaving this ship dressed like that," he said finally, his voice deadly serious. He tore his eyes away to glare at the scattered crew men looking their way with interest. "In fact, you're not staying on this _ship _dressed like that," he hissed. "Go and change immediately!"

"Whatever for?" Bella asked in confusion. "It's much more comfortable, easier to clamber about after you. And if I need to fight..." She drew her sword, lunging forward with a sharp thrust. "Much better than skirts."

Edward grabbed her arm, dragging her out of view behind a stack of crates. "It's indecent," he growled, glancing down once again, then away just as quickly when he noticed the dark hollow between her breasts. "And button your shirt, for heaven's sake!"

Bella ripped her arm away and sheathed her sword. With a frown, she fastened one more button on her shirt. "There. Satisfied?"

Edward glared. "Go. Change. Now."

Bella glared right back, fists on her hips. "No."

Edward growled, turning to pace away a few steps and back again. This woman was going to be the end of him. He could feel hairs on his head graying with every moment...seconds of life dribbling away with every pound of his furious heart. At this rate, he'd keel over of old age before he reached thirty.

"Why must you fight me on everything?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Not everything," Bella replied. "Just when you're being impossible." She paused for a moment, pondering. "You're just impossible more often than most."

For some reason, the comment hit Edward as funny. He blinked at her, fighting the urge to laugh, but lost the battle. His shoulders shook as he tried to hold back, anger and frustration finally giving way to helpless surrender as he burst out laughing.

Bella eyed him warily. "You're really quite mad, aren't you?"

Of course, that only made him laugh harder, tears springing forth as he clutched his stomach.

Bella huffed in frustration. "What on earth is so funny?"

Edward struggled for breath, wiping the tears from his cheeks. "Oh, Smith," he said through the remaining chuckles. "Why do I even _try_ to tell you what to do?"

Bella shrugged. "I've no idea."

A strand of hair had sprung free of her queue, and without thinking, he reached out to tuck it behind her ear. Bella flushed when his fingers lingered on her cheek briefly before he pulled away.

"Captain?" Jasper's voice cut through the moment. Edward straightened, stepping back from Bella.

"What is it?"

"The men are ready."

Edward nodded. "Good. Fine. That's...good, then."

Jasper smirked, tipping his hat with a significant glance at Bella before turning away.

"We should go," Edward said finally. "Unless you've changed your mind about the gown?."

Bella just sighed in exasperation. "Don't you see this is much more practical?" she asked, indicating her garb with a sweep of her hands.

Edward knew he'd lost the battle. "Could you at least fasten your coat?" he asked. "So your..." He waved a hand toward her breasts, her legs. "...assets aren't quite so on display. It's distracting," he said gruffly.

Bella smirked. "You find me distracting, Captain?"

Edward leaned in, determined to regain his footing. He leered at her, raising an eyebrow. "Immensely," he said, the words a low rumble. Bella reddened and looked away with a slight gasp, and he knew he'd at least scored a point. She stepped back, buttoning her coat with trembling fingers.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to get to my sword now," she grumbled.

Unable to resist prodding her further, Edward moved toward her, reaching under the lowest coat button for her belt. Bella's eyes flashed up toward him as she froze.

"What are you doing?" she whispered breathlessly.

Edward held her gaze, slowly unbuckling the belt, his fingers brushing over her waist. He could feel her warm skin through the thin material of her shirt, her quick, shallow breaths vibrating under his hands. It would be so easy to slip his arms around her and draw her close. He could smell her already, the fresh scent of her soap wafting off her skin. He could duck beneath that ridiculous hat, press his lips to the soft skin behind her ear.

Taste her just one more time.

The splash of a dinghy hitting the water brought him back to his senses, and instead of indulging his fantasies, he pulled back, the belt and sword dangling in his hand. Bella swallowed thickly, looking up at him -– lovely and pink-cheeked, eyes glassy and wide -– and for a moment, he considered forgetting all of it. Aro, the treasure, his vengeance.

For a moment, he considered just sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her back to his quarters, not to emerge for hours...or days.

Perhaps weeks.

But instead, he reached around her tiny waist and re-buckled the belt over the long coat, adjusting the sword so it hung properly at her hip.

"There," he said gruffly.

"What?" Bella licked her lips, still a bit dazed.

Edward looked away looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "You can reach your sword now."

"Oh." Bella looked down, touching the buckle absently. "Oh! Yes. Yes, of course. Thank you." She fidgeted, patting her hair, making sure it was tucked securely behind her ears. "Well, then, we should probably go, right?"

"Right."

She looked up at him hesitantly, biting her lip, then drew a deep breath and turned on her heel without another word.

~0~

"I can't believe you stole horses," Bella hissed at Edward as they made their way cross-country toward Savannah. The ship had dropped the dinghy closer to shore, near a hidden alcove to the north, and made quick retreat to deeper waters. They'd rowed inland along the Savannah River but put to shore well before reaching the town. To Bella's surprise, they'd found the horses tethered to a few trees only a short distance away. Edward had apparently sent word to a contact in Savannah, who provided the mounts.

Or rather, _liberated_ them for Edward's use.

"Not stolen," Edward corrected with a grin, looking back at her over his shoulder. "Just borrowed for a while."

Bella didn't respond, focusing instead on staying astride her rather skittish horse. She'd been surprised that McCarty, Jenks, and Jacob accompanied them in the dinghy -– filling it to its capacity, much to Bella's rather nervous observation -– but grateful that Newton did not go along. The Master Gunner had leered at her when he saw her attire, eyes raking down her form and back up again leaving a chilling shudder in their wake. He finally spat onto the deck, holding her gaze for a disturbing moment before turning to return to his post. The man both disgusted and unnerved her. She'd hoped the encounter with the bucket had cooled his interest, but instead she feared he might be just biding his time.

"Just relax," Jacob said, riding up beside her. "The horse can sense if you're nervous."

"Well, then she should be sensing a lot," Bella muttered as the white mare sidestepped a bit before continuing forward. She leaned forward over the horse's neck. "You should be a bit more supportive as the only other female in this lot," she said. "Where is the bond of sisterhood, I ask you?" The mare shook its mane, whinnying loudly, and Jacob burst out laughing, earning a glare from Edward.

"Quiet!" he ordered, although he had been just as loud a moment earlier. "We need not attract unnecessary attention."

Bella rolled her eyes at Jacob, who just shrugged in response, but they kept quiet for the rest of the journey. It wasn't long before Edward held up a hand and the little group stopped just outside the town. They tied the horses to some scraggly trees and continued on foot. Bella couldn't keep herself from stealing a few glances at Edward along the way, still a bit muzzy and confused after what had happened -– or nearly happened -– on the ship. When Edward had touched her, she'd lost all rational thought, once again caught up in the feeling -– the hot, achy feeling -– that he seemed to pull out of her whenever he got near. She had no doubt that if they had been somewhere a bit more private, there would have been a repeat of the incident in the barn. Or perhaps even worse -– or better, depending on how you looked at it -– at any rate, something _more._

Bella sighed at the thought. Her self-control was sadly lacking.

She just couldn't understand how he could make her so furious, so frustrated one minute, and the next -– with one hot look or one lingering touch -– she was putty in his hands.

It was rather irritating. And confusing.

"We should split up," Edward said as they neared the town square. "Jenks, you go with McCarty and start at the northwest corner of town, working your way along the river. Black-"

"I'll take Bella," Jacob offered.

Edward's eye flashed. "Bella is with me," he said sharply. "You and Whitlock start at the southwest corner. Miss Swan and I will begin here. Building by building, tything by tything, ward by ward, men. No stone left unturned. We're looking for a blue door. We'll meet in St. James Square once every inch of this bloody town has been searched. Understood?"

A low chorus of "Yes, Sir," met his order before the men turned to go their separate ways.

Searching the town turned out to be a rather simple proposition. Savannah was laid out in an organized grid pattern, with rows of buildings arranged around several open squares. It took less than an hour for Edward and Bella to walk through their allotted portion of the town, examining every door they came across. The search, however, was fruitless, and they made their way to St. James Square, hopeful that the others had found what they were looking for.

Their disheartened expressions quickly ended that hope.

"I don't understand," Edward muttered as they gathered on the side of the road to avoid the carts and foot traffic moving along. "It has to be here." He fixed each of his men with a rigid look. "You're certain you didn't miss anything?"

"We looked everywhere," Jasper replied, and the others nodded in agreement. "There was no home, or shop, or even a bloody stable with a blue door." He frowned, leaning in to add quietly, "Maybe she was wrong."

"She's never wrong."

"There's always a first time."

Edward tugged at his hair, conversing in low tones with Jasper, and Bella took the opportunity to look around the crowded square, letting her mind wander. A few children played in front of what appeared to be a school, tossing rocks in some sort of competition. A couple of large men stacked sacks of grain in front of the general store, pausing to wipe sweat from their foreheads every few minutes. A young couple walked along the opposite side of the road, the woman blushing prettily at something the man had said.

A shout drew Bella's attention, and she turned to see that one of the children -– a young boy -– had run out into the middle of the road, a cart loaded with barrels headed straight for him. She stared in horror as the driver finally noticed the boy and drew up quickly on the reins, his eyes wide and frantic. The boy stood frozen in terror as the horses bore down on him, tossing their heads in protest as the driver wrestled with the reins.

Bella opened her mouth to scream. Then, in a flash of movement, the boy was thrown to the side of the road, and it took a moment for her to realize that Edward had done the throwing. He lay in the dusty grass, his body taking the brunt of the impact, the boy laying on his chest, his mouth open in shock.

It was too late for the cart, though. The horses reared, kicking into the air as the driver fought to get them under control. Instead they fought back, breaking free of the cart with a mighty jolt. The driver jumped off, rolling across the dirt road, and the cart careened down the road, weaving erratically before falling over onto its side. Barrels bounced out in every direction, a few breaking open and releasing a flood of indigo dye onto the street.

When it was all over, Bella finally drew a breath, racing across the street to check on Edward and the little boy. The driver got to his feet, weaving his way in the same direction.

"Edward? Are you all right?" she asked, falling to her knees next to him. She helped the little boy up, brushing off his knees. "Are you hurt?" she asked him.

The little boy shook his head, but his eyes filled with tears.

"Masen?" A woman pushed her way into the small group gathered around them. "Masen, oh my heavens, are you all right?" She gathered the little boy up in her arms, and Bella realized she was the boy's mother.

The boy sobbed, holding her tightly around her neck as she got to her feet. She kissed his damp cheek, examining his arms and legs. Finding no lasting damage, she turned to Edward, who'd finally managed to stand up as well.

"Thank you," she said, "Mr.-"

Edward cleared his throat. "Carlson," he said.

"Mr. Carlson," she repeated. "I can't thank you enough."

Edward shrugged, cheeks pink with embarrassment. "It was nothing. Anyone would have done the same." Waving off any further thanks, he added, "Perhaps you should get the boy to the doctor? Make certain there's no unseen injury?"

The woman nodded, thanking him again before hurrying off down the street. The crowd broke up, many reassembling by the overturned cart to help the driver right it. Edward swept the dust off his clothes as Jasper retrieved his hat.

"Well, that was exciting," Jasper said wryly. "So much for not attracting attention."

Edward beat his hat against his leg to remove the dust before replacing it on his head. "Couldn't be helped," he said. "Now, back to the problem at hand."

"We could start again," Jacob suggested. "Perhaps we missed something."

"Or question some of the townfolk," McCarty offered. "Maybe the door is _inside _a building."

Edward held up a finger. "Good thought," he said. "But how to go about it without raising suspicion?" He began to pace, lost in thought.

Bella sighed, watching the men re-loading the cart as they stepped around puddles of dye to retrieve the unbroken barrels. She looked across the street, spotting the remains of one of the crushed barrels on the front porch of a little shop, a flood of indigo dye down the steps finally slowing to a trickle.

She gasped.

"Edward," she murmured.

"There's no other way," Edward said, as if he hadn't heard her. "We'll divide up and talk to people. Try to be subtle," he ordered.

"Edward?" Bella repeated, a little louder.

"Perhaps start at the general store," he continued. "Or the church."

"Church?" McCarty snorted. "Do you wish to be hit by lightning?"

Bella took a deep breath. "Edward!" she shouted.

Edward turned toward her in irritation. "Good lord, Smith, no need to shriek like a madwoman. What is it?"

Bella glared but was too excited to properly chastise him. Instead, she pointed across the street. "Look!"

As one, the men turned to see what she was pointing at: a small shop with the remains of one -– no, _two_ -– barrels scattered about the front porch, indigo dye splattered everywhere, the blue liquid streaking the entire facade.

Including the door.

They stood and stared, until Jasper let out a soft chuckle.

"Bloody hell," Edward murmured, and they started across the street.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Chapter 16 teaser will be up on **The Fictionators** (**www dot fictionators dot com**) on Monday.

And don't forget the **Cutlass **outtake that's up for grabs with the **Fandom 4 No Kid Hungry** fundraiser. Go to **fandomcause (dot) info** for all the details.


	16. Chapter 16: Messages and Misdirection

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

Thanks also to all of you who reviewed the last chapter. Sorry I've been failing at reviewing, but I do read and appreciate every one. Please feel free to PM or hit me up on Twitter if you have a question you need answered.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I dare not describe in excessive detail my latest discovery, at least not until I deem whether or not it proves trustworthy. If my enemies were to liberate this record from my possession, I would not wish my errant words to lead them to what I intend to claim for myself.<strong>_

_**I do believe, however, that I draw closer to discovering the treasure's final resting place with every passing day. **_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 30 March, 1666**_

**Chapter 16: Messages and Misdirection**

They converged on the shop porch, gingerly stepping through the spreading dye. Jasper gallantly pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket, wiping off the door knob and opening it with a flourish. A bell sounded overhead, and with a glance at Bella, Edward gripped his sword hilt and stepped through first, the others following close behind.

"Hello?" he called, blinking in the dim interior. "Is anyone there?"

Silence greeted them as they spread out, moving between the tables and shelves. Edward scanned a collection of snuff boxes, picking one up and toying with the latch.

"Odd to leave a shop unattended," Jenks said, his voice loud in the hushed room.

"Look around," Edward ordered. "We know what it looks like, but not its size, so if you see a cup of any kind - a tankard, a chalice...a bloody sherry glass, let me know."

They made their way quietly around the shop, closely examining the displays, flipping through stacks of books, even searching stacks of clothing, just to make sure they didn't miss anything. It only took a few minutes - the shop was not overly large - until they gathered near the counter at the back, all empty-handed.

Jasper eyed a curtained doorway behind the counter. "Perhaps back there?"

Edward was about to agree when the bell over the door rang again, and a boisterous voice called out, "Deepest apologies, gentlemen. Quite a mishap involving a cart of indigo dye." The man kept rambling, rubbing at his fingers with a handkerchief, his hands stained blue. "I fear I will never remove it," he muttered. "My wife will be quite displeased, quite displeased." He looked up, taking in their little group.

"Horace Abernathy," he said, "and how may I be of assistance today?"

Edward took in the man from the top of his shiny head – quite obvious since it barely reached Edward's shoulder – to the round belly bursting forth from a crimson waistcoat. The man removed a pair of spectacles from his pocket, wiping them with a clean edge of his handkerchief before placing them on his nose. He peered at them through the glasses, blinking owlishly at Edward. Then he gasped, glancing about nervously.

"Are you One-Eyed-" At Edward's low growl, Abernathy's words cut off. He tugged at his collar. "Are you Cullen?" he asked instead, his words barely a whisper.

Edward crossed his arms over his chest, a menacing glare burning into the man.

"Perhaps."

The shopkeeper rushed to the front door, locking it quickly before pulling the shades down over the front window.

"What are you on about?" Edward asked, losing patience.

"Mayhap he's a bit daft?" McCarty offered through the side of his mouth. "Had an aunt like that once. Believed she was the Queen of England."

Edward shrugged but watched the man carefully as he returned to them, stepping behind the counter and opening a drawer.

"He said you'd be coming," he told Edward, mopping his face with his handkerchief and leaving a streak of blue on his upper lip.

"Who?"

"Said his name was Aro." The man all but shuddered when he said the name. "Rather intimidating chap."

The group of pirates groaned, watching the captain for his reaction. His anger was apparent in his dark gaze, the clench of his jaw. He reached across the counter, grabbing the shopkeeper's lapel. "What did he want?" he asked through his teeth, slow and deadly.

Abernathy gulped. "He was after a cup. I don't know why. 'Twasn't anything of significant value-"

"What of the cup?" Edward shook him slightly when he took too long to answer.

"He took it," Abernathy replied, eyes wide with fear. "Paid me handsomely and asked me to give you a message when you arrived."

"Edward," Bella said quietly, reaching for his arm.

Edward tore his gaze from the shopkeeper and focused on her.

"It isn't his fault," she said.

He stared at her for a long moment, then with a heavy sigh, Edward uncurled his fingers, releasing the man. The cup was gone. Aro had it. But Bella was right. His anger should not be aimed at an innocent man.

Abernathy smoothed his coat, then his nonexistent hair. "He asked me to give you a message," he said again.

Edward nodded, rubbing the tense muscles at the back of his neck. "What message?"

The man fumbled through the open drawer for a moment, and Edward felt his patience slipping away yet again.

"It's in here somewhere," he muttered, pulling out a pile of papers. "I didn't really expect you to come...didn't know when you might, if you did-"

"Bloody hell, man!" Jasper exclaimed. "Just find the blasted message, will you?"

The man's hands trembled, but he held up a square of parchment victoriously. "Here it is!" He handed it to Edward with a wide grin, his hand remaining extended as Edward took the note from him. Edward eyed the man's palm distastefully, and Abernathy's fingers twitched as he began to pull it back. But the captain nodded at Jasper, who pulled a coin from his pocket and tossed it to the shopkeeper.

"Thank you for your assistance," Edward said before turning on his heel and heading for the door, not missing Abernathy's fallen expression. Obviously, he had either hoped for a greater reward or at least to find out what the message contained. Edward examined the parchment. It was still sealed, a blob of wax imprinted with the A of Aro's signet ring yet intact over the edge of the paper. Fortunate thing, that. Edward would have hated to have to kill the shopkeeper for being nosy.

He ran his finger over the seal, an inadvertent shiver rippling through him at the touch. It wasn't the first time he'd seen the symbol, pressed into blood-red wax, that instance forever imprinted on his memory. A similar note, lying next to his mother's bloodied form. His father's fingers trembling as he broke the seal, reading the one-line missive with a blank expression. The parchment fluttering to the floor, only to be retrieved by a grief-stricken Edward once his father walked aimlessly out of the room.

_Innocents are harmed when I am kept from what I desire._

His father had answered Edward's questions with single words, uttered in shock, colored with pain and numbness.

_Yes._

_No._

_Aro._

_Aro._

_Aro._

The name forever emblazoned on his heart, giving him purpose...giving him meaning. He'd taken the journal then, interceding when his father threatened to throw it into the fire, vowing his vengeance as Carlisle's shoulders slumped in defeat and shame.

He had burned the note, however, unable to look at it without seeing his mother's broken body in his mind.

Aro had left other notes along the way, always taunting, goading...daring him to stop or to continue in his quest.

When Aro had retrieved half of the map: _It seems you are falling behind in this little game, Eddie. Perhaps it is time you retire to more leisurely pursuits?_

When Edward lay recovering from the wounds he'd inflicted: _I bide my time until we meet again. _

When Edward stole the cutlass: _Well played, Cullen. But this is far from over._

His fingers gripped the latest message as the crew emerged into the sunshine, walking toward the edge of town and – hopefully – their hidden horses. Edward kept his stride quick and purposeful, anxious to get back to the ship now that their search had proven fruitless. They mounted the horses in silence, setting off toward the shoreline at a gallop. Once they reached the place where the dinghy was hidden, they released the horses with a shout and a slap to the rump, and the men dragged the little boat to the water.

Edward stood off by himself, staring down yet again at that blood-red seal.

Bella approached him tentatively. "Aren't you going to read it?"

"I already know what it says."

"How?"

"Because they're always the same," he spat. "That bastard is always a step ahead of me, and he likes to drive home that fact." He handed the parchment to Bella. "See for yourself."

Bella reached for the paper, sliding her finger under the edge to break the seal.

"_The cup is mine. Yet again, I prove victorious," _she read. "_You may bear the title of Captain, Eddie, but you are no pirate. Why not surrender to failure before your crew is destroyed by your ill-fated attempts at revenge?"_

She looked up at him. "Mighty full of himself, isn't he?"

Edward snorted, taken by surprise at her comment and how – somehow – it alleviated the frustration and anger he'd been feeling. He glanced down to find her watching him closely, eyes twinkling. Reaching for the message, he crumpled it up, shoving it in his coat pocket.

"Aye, Smith. That he is," he replied with a smirk. "I'd say it's about time we put that bastard in his place, though, don't you?"

Bella gripped her sword, her face turning grave and determined. "Aye, Captain," she said. "It's about time."

~0~

The landing party made its way back to the ship without incident, but Crowley was waiting as soon as they stepped on the deck, seeking Edward out.

"Captain, we've received a message," he said urgently, "from Tortuga."

Edward's jaw tensed. "Whitlock!" he shouted. When the first mate looked at him, he gestured toward his quarters meaningfully, and the three set off together, Bella trailing behind, trying not to be noticed lest she be excluded from the conversation.

"How long ago?" Edward asked.

"Not long," Crowley replied. "It was relayed from our contact in Savannah."

"I hope you thanked him for the horses," Edward said wryly.

Crowley just nodded as the little group made its way into the captain's quarters. Edward lifted an eyebrow at Bella but made no effort to keep her out of the room, simply closing the door behind her and taking a seat behind his desk.

"We've word from Rosalie," he told Jasper.

"Who's Rosalie?" Bella asked.

Jasper turned to her. "A friend in Tortuga."

"Tortuga?"

Edward leaned back in his chair. "It's a haven for...businessmen of our sort," he said with a slight grin. "Rosalie often provides..." He searched for the right word. "Entertainment, when we're in port."

Bella tilted her head, searching for the hidden meaning. "What type of entertainment?"

Edward just crossed his arms over his chest, biting the corner of his lip. "Various types."

She opened her mouth to pursue the point, but Edward waved a hand in dismissal. "At any rate, she also supplies information that sometimes proves useful," he said.

"How did you get a message from so far away?" she asked.

Edward sighed in frustration, obviously wanting to get on with business, so Jasper interjected.

"We've contacts all through the islands, and up the coast of the mainland," he explained. "Using lanterns at night, or mirrors reflecting sunlight during the day, they can pass along simple messages. Sometimes it's a warning to avoid a certain area...if Crown ships have been spotted, for example. Or, in this case, I predict, that we need to _go_ somewhere."

"Indeed," Edward murmured, turning to Crowley expectantly.

"Five flashes, then three," he said. Bella turned to Edward for a translation.

"Rosalie's signal," he explained.

"Yes," Crowley replied. "Then two...four...two."

"Come."

"Then, one I didn't recognize," Crowley continued with a frown. "Six...three...three."

Edward stiffened. "Are you certain?"

"Yes. The message repeated several times." Crowley shifted uncomfortably. "What does it mean?"

The captain sat thoughtfully for a moment, elbow braced on the arm of his chair, finger on his lips.

"It means we're setting sail for Tortuga," he said finally. "See to it, then your bed, Crowley. Whitlock will be up shortly to take the wheel."

"Aye, Captain," the Quartermaster replied, leaving the room to fulfill his duties. Edward just sat back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his lips.

"What was that all about?" Jasper asked. "What does 'six, three, three' mean?"

"It means Rosalie has word of the box."

"The box?" Bella interrupted. "You mean the box with the map? The one Alice mentioned?"

"Aye."

"But how did she get it?" Bella crossed the room, pacing excitedly. "Where did she find it? Did she see the map?"

Jasper laughed. "It's a rather simple form of communication, Bella," he said. "Not one for detailed information."

Bella collapsed into a chair. "How frustrating!"

"Well, we'll get the answers soon enough," Edward said, just as an urgent knocking sounded at the door. "Enter!" he called.

Crowley poked his head in. "Captain, you're needed on deck. A Crown ship approaches."

Edward was on his feet before he finished talking, pushing past him through the door. "Hunter?"

"Can't tell for certain, but could be."

Bella followed behind him as Edward emerged on deck, pulling his spyglass from his pocket. "Full sail!" he barked, Jasper quickly relaying the order. The men sped to obey, and once again Bella was awed by the coordinated effort to get the ship underway.

Edward squinted, peering through the glass at the approaching ship, still a speck in the distance. "It's Hunter all right," he said.

"How can you tell?" she asked, raising a hand to block the sunlight.

Snapping the spyglass shut, he stalked to the wheel. "I can tell.

"Move it, men, Hunter's on our stern!" he bellowed as they hoisted sails, the wind filling them to bursting. "Avast! Ready the cannons! He'll not catch us easily, but if he does, we'll be ready for him!"

Jasper watched the men with a critical eye. "The _Arrow_ is faster than the_ Intrepid,_" he said. "Hunter won't catch us."

Edward frowned, his fingers tight on the wheel. "No, but he'll follow us all the way to Tortuga."

"We can't let that happen."

"No."

Bella watched the interchange silently. When neither spoke again, she asked, "So what's to be done, then?"

They exchanged a significant look. "There's only one thing," Jasper began.

"No," Edward said gruffly. "We'll let him follow, then evade him in the Bahamas. He won't be able to maneuver as quickly as us once we reach the islands."

Jasper glanced in the direction of the approaching ship warily. "A diversion would ensure our escape."

"What kind of diversion?" Bella asked.

"No," Edward said stubbornly. "I'll not throw one of my men to the wolves."

"Jenks is strong and fast."

At that, the man in question appeared, as if out of nowhere. "I can do it, Captain," he offered.

"I didn't ask," Edward muttered.

"No, Sir. I believe I volunteered."

"Ready yourself," Jasper said hastily. "We won't be able to stop to drop the dinghy-"

"Belay that!" Edward bellowed.

Jenks straightened. "Captain," he said. "I can give you the time you need to get to Tortuga, and Hunter will be none the wiser." At Edward's skeptical look, he added with a smug grin, "The commodore won't catch me. He won't even come close."

Edward studied him for a moment, then nodded grimly, slipping out of his coat and hat. "Take Thomas and Allegheny. They're strong rowers and quick on their feet. If there's trouble, relay a message to Tortuga."

"Aye, Captain." He put on the coat, then the hat, tugging it low over his eyes.

"We'll return for you."

"Or we'll find our way to you." Jenks grinned. "I'm quite resourceful, Captain."

Edward nodded, clapping the man on the shoulder. "I'm well aware. Just be careful. Don't let Hunter get his bloody hooks into you."

"Not a chance, Cap'n." With that, he hurried off to find the other men.

"Ready the dinghy abaft!" Edward shouted, and a group of crewmen raced to pull the little boat over the side, repositioning it toward the stern of the ship. They began to lower it over the side by a pair of ropes tied at its bow and stern. When Jenks reappeared with two large crew men Bella assumed were Thomas and Allegheny, Edward nodded once, then shouted. "Heave to! Mind the yard arm!"

Bella watched in awe as he spun the wheel, men ducking nimbly as the sails swung wildly across the deck. The ship slowed as they headed into the wind, and with a shout, the men lowered the dinghy to the water, keeping hold of the ropes to keep it from floating away. Jenks and the other two men climbed over the gunwale, clambering down the rope ladder and into the dinghy. With a shout, the men released the ropes, and the dinghy bobbed away in the _Arrow's_ wake. With another shout, Edward spun the wheel again, and the ship sped up, heading south yet again.

It all took less than a minute.

"That was..." Bella looked up at Edward, wide-eyed.

"Impressive?" he offered, with a rather self-satisfied smile.

Bella snorted. "I was going to say insane," she said. "Did you just launch a dinghy full of men off a moving ship?"

Edward shrugged, his hand resting lightly on the wheel. "No time to stop."

She glanced back at Jenks sitting in the bow of the dinghy, Thomas and Allegheny rowing side by side. In Edward's coat and hat, he could easily be mistaken for the captain.

"So you think Hunter will follow them?" she asked doubtfully.

"He won't run the risk that it could be me," he replied. "He's doubtlessly aware that I've been spending some time on the mainland, and if he suspects I've left the ship, he won't be able to resist the chance to catch me. By the time he realizes the truth, we'll be well into the islands."

"Will Jenks be all right?"

"Aye," Edward replied, but tension showed in the clench of his jaw, and she knew he was worried. "None of us are inexperienced when it comes to evading the law."

Bella wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her or himself. "Well, he is a pirate, after all," she said loftily. "You are a slippery lot."

He smirked at her. "Aye. That we are."

Bella turned to face the wind, her hair blowing loose around her face. "There's something I don't understand," she said after a while. "Why did Alice send us to Savannah if we had no chance of finding the cup?"

Edward glanced over his shoulder, keeping an eye on Hunter as he piloted the ship. "We had a chance," he said. "Alice can only see the future based on the path we are on at that particular moment. It's possible Aro hadn't decided to go to Savannah yet, or perhaps something happened to speed Hunter's arrival in South Carolina. Any one thing could have changed the path we were on, making us miss our opportunity to beat Aro to the cup."

Bella considered that, her mind whirling at the possibilities – the infinite consequences of every action. "It's rather complicated, isn't it?"

He laughed. "I suppose you could say that."

They stood in companionable silence, the ship rocking beneath their feet. Bella was highly aware of Edward beside her, his masculine form braced against the wind, his long hair the only part of him giving it quarter. He was quite a sight, she had to admit – a figure from a story book. Not a hero, exactly, but not quite a villain either.

"So, tell me about this Rosalie," she said after a while, fighting to keep from appearing too curious.

"Rosalie?" Edward grinned at her, his eye twinkling merrily. "Oh, Smith. You're going to love her."

~0~

On board his ship, docked in the waters off Nassau, Aro the Merciless gulped down a tankard of rum, holding it out to be refilled with an absent wave of his hand. His cabin boy rushed forward, pouring the rum carefully, then Aro set the tankard on the table before him, dismissing the boy with a jerk of his head. Finally alone, he stood, moving to the locked chest against the wall. He unlocked it with the key he kept on a chain around his neck and drew out a cloth-wrapped item before returning to his chair.

He smiled with satisfaction as he unwrapped his latest acquisition, the cup he'd found in the shop in Savannah. It was a bit smaller than his tankard and simple hammered metal – not even silver, to his surprise – the intricate carving around the rim the only thing to set it apart as unique.

_Pones coram me mensam ex adverso hostium meorum inpinguasti oleo caput meum calix meus inebrians  
><em>

Aro ran his finger over the words, murmuring them quietly to himself. He was not an educated man, but knew enough Latin to recognize the verse, a childhood of _spare the rod, spoil the child_ serving to beat a few pieces of Scripture into his memory.

_"Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over."_ The Book of Psalms, Chapter twenty-three, verse five.

It had been fortune, combined with invaluable information he'd paid heartily for, that led to procuring the relic. The _Abaddon's Curse _had chased a Spanish vessel up the coast of Florida, finally boarding it just south of Georgia to relieve it of its rather considerable booty when he received word that Cullen was heading to Savannah. Seeking out the cup proved a bit more of a challenge, but some well-placed coin yet again proved fruitful, and he'd obtained the cup at far less of a cost than he'd anticipated.

And managed to leave Georgia long before Cullen arrived.

Aro laughed to himself. He wished he could have seen One-Eyed Eddie's expression when he realized he'd been bested yet again. Setting the cup down, he trailed a finger over the half of the map he'd all but memorized after spending so much time studying it. Unfortunately, it revealed nothing new about the location of the treasure. Without the missing half, it was all but useless. There was no way to discern the location of the land masses, or even determine which sea filled much of the page.

The same could be said for the little he knew of the journal. He'd had only a page from it for a short time before Cullen managed to retrieve it and return it to its place within the journal's leather bindings. Aro had already committed the verse to memory, though, and it was enough, combined with the information he'd later obtained, to determine what he needed in order to find the gold.

Aro sighed, rubbing his chin in consternation. He had no doubt he could retrieve the cutlass from Cullen when the time came, but there was really no point until the missing half of the map had been found. He had men searching – as he knew Cullen did as well – but to no avail. As for the coin, well, he didn't have it, but at least One-Eyed Eddie didn't either.

Begrudgingly, Aro had to give the boy credit. He had not expected him to last as long as he had. Driven by his mother's death – an unfortunate accident, not that it mattered, Aro would have killed her had he believed it necessary – Cullen had proven single-minded in his quest for vengeance, surprisingly so, actually.

Yes, he'd learned not to underestimate the young captain. The boy had become a force to be reckoned with. A rather annoying force, at that.

A knock at the door brought him out of his musings, and he realized he had no idea how long he'd been sitting there brooding. "What?" he barked.

His first mate, Marcus, stepped in. "We've word on Cullen," he said. "He's set sail for Tortuga."

Aro straightened. "Tortuga?" He tapped a finger against his lips. "Interesting. I wonder why."

Marcus leaned against the door jamb. "Perhaps some recreation?"

"Perhaps," Aro agreed. "Or perhaps One-Eyed Eddie has procured some useful information after all." Regardless, he had nothing else to go on at the moment, so finding out what Cullen was up to held some appeal.

He stood, heading for the door. "Weigh anchor," he said. "We're for Tortuga."

Marcus grinned. "Are we going to take the _Arrow_?" he asked, pleased at the thought. Aro knew his men relished the idea of taking the ship – the only one that rivaled their own in reputation and, he had to admit, in reality.

"No, we're not to engage the _Arrow_. Not yet at least," Aro said as they headed up toward the deck. "Stealth is the key in this instance. I mean to find out what Cullen's about. It's possible he has information about the coin or the map."

"You want me to follow him?"

Aro nodded. "Aye," he said, patting the man on the shoulder. "Once we spot him, you'll take a few men and see what he's up to. And if he _is_ in Tortuga solely for entertainment, perhaps it will be an opportunity to retrieve my cutlass."

Marcus smiled in response as they emerged on the deck and set about to raise the sails.

Aro inhaled the fresh salt air, feeling a change in the wind.

Aye, things were finally going his way.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Don't forget to check out The Fictionators (www dot fictionators dot com) on Monday for a teaser of Chapter 17 if you're interested.

And I have some awesome news – we're halfway to our goal of raising $2000 for **Fandom 4 No Kid Hungry!** A **Cutlass** outtake will be part of the compilation that goes out to everyone who donates a minimum of $10. And if we reach our fundraising goal, I'm also offering up a bonus outtake to be decided on by **Cutlass **readers and posted once the main story is complete. Deal? Awesome. Check out for all the deets.

Thanks so much for reading – see you Tuesday!


	17. Chapter 17: A Night's Reprieve

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I believe I know where to look, or at least, where to begin to look. I've discovered an ancient record scrawled on a cave wall that speaks to the treasure I seek.<strong>_

_**Interpreting the writings proves difficult, however. And I dare not ask for assistance, lest others discover my intentions.**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 7 May, 1666**_

**Chapter 17: A Night's Reprieve**

Commodore Hunter took the bait.

Bella stood alone at the stern of the _Arrow_ as it cut through the waves at top speed. The wind whipped about, fortunate for them because it aided their attempt to escape. She could barely make out the _Intrepid _in the distance, the dinghy having disappeared to her sight long before. She'd held her breath as Hunter closed in with frightening purpose, only releasing it when it turned the path of the little boat.

The blast of cannon fire, however, had terrified her.

"Don't worry," Edward had said, appearing at her side. "Jenks is doubtless already on shore. Hunter is simply sending a message."

"He speaks loudly," she muttered.

"Aye, that he does." Edward grinned. "But although the Crown wants me captured, dead or alive, Hunter would prefer the latter and to avoid the former."

"Why?"

Edward smirked as he glanced at her, the wind whipping a rope of his long hair across his face. "So he can gloat, of course."

Bella shook her head at that. "Men are an odd lot."

Edward snorted. "I could say the same about women."

He returned to the wheel, and once she could see nothing in their wake but endless blue, Bella wandered idly around the deck, watching the men perform their duties. It felt odd not to be working herself, but Edward had yet to order her to wash his drawers or mend his stockings. She'd decided to take the reprieve while it was allowed and put aside her worries about Jenks and his companions, turning her attentions instead to Alice's words. She'd had little time since the reading to really consider what she'd said, but now that they were on route to Tortuga, there was little else to do until they arrived.

She took a deep breath, unsurprised to find herself once again standing next to Edward at the wheel. It seemed she was unable to stay away from him for any length of time, even if she put her mind to the task. She was drawn to him by some unseen force – a force that both frustrated and mystified her. She wasn't certain what it was about him that attracted her so. Certainly, he was a handsome fellow, tall and broad, with fine-tuned muscles and golden skin that all but glowed in the sunlight. Bella hid a blush at the memory of seeing him without his shirt that day she had to fix the mending, his strong back flexing under a slight sheen of sweat.

She swallowed hard, pressing cool fingers to her cheeks and glancing at him to be certain he hadn't noticed her discomfort. She frowned slightly as she continued her perusal, carefully avoiding a direct stare. His hair was unfashionable, overly long and twisted in ropes tied with beads and bits of this and that...his scars and eye patch relieving what would otherwise be a face too beautiful to be real. In fact, they not so much detracted from his looks as added a dangerous edge to them – an edge that Bella could admit, if only to herself, she found somewhat intriguing.

All right. Perhaps _somewhat _was understating it a bit.

And then there was his good eye. The power behind that deep green gaze all but undid her when he turned its focus on her. She had no doubt that had that force doubled with _two_ eyes, she would do little but melt into a puddle at his feet at every opportunity.

"What's got you thinking so hard, Smith?" Edward asked, leaning idly against a post, fingers of one hand barely resting on the wheel.

"Oh...uh..." Bella tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, fighting to maintain her composure. "Nothing, really. Just...Alice." She tried not to smile too widely at her brilliant deception. "I was just running over her predictions in my mind...trying to make sense of it all."

Edward nodded. "Aye. Me, as well. It can be a difficult thing to know the _what_, but not necessarily the _who, why, _or _how._"

"You're thinking about the traitor."

He frowned. "To know it's coming, but no idea from which direction, or how to prevent it..."

"Do you wish you _didn't_ know?"

Edward shook his head. "No, of course not. 'Tis always better to be prepared."

Bella took a deep breath, glancing around the deck idly. Crowley stood talking with McCarty, smacking him on the back with a grin before heading belowdecks, she assumed to get some sleep. Jasper and two other men were hauling a torn sail across the deck, rolled up and braced on their shoulders. A couple of boys on their hands and knees applied grease to some rigging, their hands black with the slick mixture.

"Do you think it's one of them?" Bella mused, half to herself.

"Hmmm?"

"Your betrayer," she said. "Could it be one of your crew?"

"I hate to think so, but I suppose it is possible."

"Alice said it was someone close to you. Someone you trust."

"Aye."

"That's a very short list."

Edward raised a brow. "Aye." When he didn't say anything more, Bella turned to look at him. He stared unseeingly forward, deep in thought.

"What is it?" she asked. He blinked, as if he'd forgotten she was there for a moment.

"Nothing, really," he said quietly. "It's just that, with Alice, it's difficult to get the true meaning of what she says sometimes. She says it's someone I trust – and immediately we think of the people I _truly_ trust – my family, Jasper..."

Bella waited, a brow arched expectantly. Edward laughed.

"Yes, even you, Smith. God help me."

She smiled, waving a hand. "And...?"

"Well, I was just thinking, there are varying levels of trust, aren't there?"

"How do you mean?"

The wind shifted, and Edward adjusted his stance, spinning the wheel slightly, brow creased as he put his thoughts to words. "I trust McCarty to ensure the sails are properly repaired...Newton to keep the cannons clean and in working order. I trust Victor to have the bread baked daily." He pointed to the two grease-spattered boys that were now laughing and throwing globs of the slime at each other. "Hell, I even trust those boys to keep the deck and the head scrubbed."

Bella sighed, absorbing his words. "So, really, it could be anybody, then."

"Aye. I'm afraid so." She felt his eyes on her, and he hesitated briefly before slowly adding, "And then there's Black."

She stiffened. "What about him?"

"Well, he is the newest to my crew – apart from you, that is. And, as you said, it could be anybody. I can't afford to let him escape suspicion."

Bella frowned. She wanted to argue the point, but Edward was right. He had to consider everyone a possible threat. Still, she felt a need to defend her friend.

"You know, it wouldn't make much sense," she said with a shrug. "He was imprisoned with me on the _Intrepid_ and you rescued him. You were the one who approached him about staying on board, weren't you?"

He considered that with a nod.

"So, why betray you?" she asked. "What could he possibly have to gain?"

"Perhaps it has something to do with his father," Edward suggested. "A father who was a pirate, whose life at sea took him away from his family. A life that eventually led to his death."

"But that wasn't your fault," Bella pointed out. "He knows it was Aro. Wouldn't that be motivation enough to fight with you rather than against you?"

Edward was silent for a long moment. Then, "I've not told him we're after Aro."

"Whyever not?" she asked, surprised. "It would seem a wise course of action."

"Few know the true nature of our journey, other than to seek out booty," he replied. "Those with knowledge would not speak without my direction."

"Perhaps it's time you told him," Bella said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. Apparently, she did not do a very good job of it, because Edward tilted his head, studying her.

"Why do you come to his defense so vehemently?" he asked, his jaw tight, although whether from suspicion or some other emotion, she wasn't certain.

She shrugged. "He's my friend."

"Perhaps you need different friends," he grunted.

Bella glared. "Perhaps you need to seek out the truth before you point the finger of blame at what could very well be an innocent man!"

They stared at each other for an angry moment, and Bella waited for him to explode, to pound his fist, pace the deck, and rant in that oh-so-irritating way of his. Instead, his lips quirked.

"Perhaps you're right," he said simply, and turned back to place both hands on the wheel.

~0~

Edward checked his compass as the sun slipped to touch the horizon, despite the fact that he'd navigated this course a hundred times before. The _Arrow_ eased between a small chain of islands to port – if they could even be called that, since they were actually just reefs that barely broke the surface of the waves – and a larger island to the starboard side.

_Isla de Cotorras._

Isle of the Parrots.

He spotted Boccen Bay just ahead, its waters deep enough for the _Arrow_, and surrounded nearly on all sides by thick trees. Between the reefs and the hidden port, they would be safe from view through the night at least. Moving into the bay would prove a tight fit, but Edward knew his men were up for the challenge.

"Ready about!" he called as they drew nearer to the bay, the order echoed across the deck as they always were. "Windward ho! Bring a spring upon her cable, men!" With satisfaction, he watched his men jump to action, two manning the capstan, their arms whirling at blurring speeds, as others helped to drop the sails at just the right moment. Smoothly, they maneuvered into the narrow channel deep enough to admit them, with barely a bump or a scrape to mark their way.

Edward ordered the anchor dropped, then relinquished the wheel once they'd come to a bobbing stop in the middle of the bay. He spotted Bella standing at the bow and made his way over to her. The setting sun cast her hair in a myriad of colors from brown to gold, and as she turned to smile at him, her eyes sparkled in the most beguiling way, stealing his breath.

Edward's steps faltered.

"Are you all right?" she asked, her smile replaced by concern.

He waved a hand dismissively, moving to stand next to her but unable to meet her gaze. "Fine. Just a bit of grease on the deck." When Bella turned to look for it, he hurried on. "We'll stay here for the night."

Bella blinked, grease smudge long forgotten. "Really? I thought we were going to Tortuga."

"We can't make it there before dark. We don't dare make way on open water with Hunter on our tail, but these islands are far too treacherous to sail at night."

She nodded. "It's not far, though."

"No. We should be there by midday if not sooner." Bella sighed and looked out over the beach, and Edward took advantage of the moment to steal another glance of her. It was a dangerous thing, he knew, because looking was quickly becoming not enough.

Not nearly enough.

The times he'd touched her – tasted her – burned in his gut and, like a drowning man needed air, he found he needed more. All his arguments against it paled in his single-minded desire to reach out and-

"So how did you come to know this Rosalie?" Bella asked.

"What?" Edward stammered, still caught up in his thoughts.

She turned to him, head tilted in confusion. "Are you sure you're all right?"

He cleared his throat. "Fine. Rosalie you say?"

"Yes. I just wondered how you met her."

Well, that was a complicated question, wasn't it? Edward didn't know why he should feel guilty about the fact that he came to know Rosalie over a jug of rum and a rather eager whore named Irina. Or that their relationship had been built by Edward's frequent patronage – and that of his crew, of course – seeking drink and the other more exotic entertainments she offered in her establishment.

He shouldn't feel guilty about it. He was a man, damn it. And a man had needs. He had a right to quench his thirst – or his lust – whenever necessary, didn't he? It only made sense.

Yet he had a feeling that the lovely Miss Swan might not agree. She was, after all, a lady.

So instead, he said vaguely, "She owns a local business, and we've had occasion to do...business with her."

"You said that, but what kind of bus-?"

"By the way," Edward interrupted, acting like he hadn't heard her. "I have a surprise for you."

Bella started, and Edward fought down a victorious smirk. "Surprise?" she asked. "What kind of surprise?"

"Well if I told you that it wouldn't be a surprise," he replied with mock exasperation. "I swear, Smith, for an intelligent woman, sometimes you say the most inane things."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop and tell me about this surprise."

Edward arched a brow. "Did you just stomp your foot at me?"

"Edward!"

"All right. All right." He laughed, holding up his hands in defeat. "It's in my quarters."

Bella's eyes narrowed dubiously, and Edward laughed again.

"So suspicious. It's appalling, really," he said, shaking his head. "Relax, Smith. I'll be staying here." He spoke slowly, pointing at the deck, then to Bella. "You can go to my quarters – alone – and see your surprise."

"Oh, all right then," she said, flustered and blushing. Edward found he quite enjoyed Bella flustered and blushing. She turned on her heel but only made it a few steps before turning back, her face flaming. "Thank you...for the surprise," she said, fidgeting with her fingers. "Whatever it is." And with that, she hurried belowdecks.

Edward chuckled, then turned toward a shout at the stern. He could spot McCarty and a few others stripped down to their drawers and plunging off the side of the ship. Jasper approached, a wide smile on his face.

"You going in?" he asked.

The captain grinned and pulled of his shirt. "Aye," he said, kicking off his boots and unbuckling his belt. "I do believe I will."

~0~

As she made her way down the cool hallway belowdecks, Bella feared she might die of embarrassment. When Edward had said he had a surprise for her in his quarters, her mind had flown to all sorts of inappropriate ideas of what he might have had in mind. She thought she'd managed to hide her true thoughts, but she feared Edward had seen right through her.

And he'd laughed.

_Of course_ he'd laughed.

The idea that he might want from her what she was beginning to want from him? Well, it was ridiculous. A few stolen kisses were hardly an indication of further intent. He was a man, after all, and responding to a willing female was ingrained in their very bones.

And she'd been more than willing.

Bella stopped outside the door to the captain's quarters, taking a deep breath and trying to shake off the rest of her mortification. Edward had told her she was a terrible liar, and she knew it was true. Her every emotion showed on her face. The only reason she succeeded in living aboard the _Arrow_ as a boy for as long as she had was her ability to be unnoticeable...invisible. Nobody looked too closely at her, so she hadn't had to rely on her deceptive abilities, or lack thereof. She feared it was only a matter of time before Edward became aware of her increasing attraction to him.

Well, he was apparently already painfully aware of it, but she doubted he realized the _extent_ of it. Because Bella was quickly coming to realize that what she felt for him had grown beyond mere attraction, or even admiration, into something she was leery to put a name to. She sighed, leaning forward to bump her forehead lightly on the door.

What was she doing?

Giving her heart to someone like Edward was like asking to have it crushed. She had nothing to offer him, and he had nothing he could give her in return. They were a match doomed to fail, and her only hope was to resist him. There was no alternative.

But _could_ she?

The question answered itself when she walked into the captain's quarters and spotted the bathtub in the middle of the floor, full of steaming, scented water. Not the usual tub for a brief wash with a damp cloth, either. No, this was a full-sized copper tub, polished to a sheen, a small table beside it holding soap and drying linens.

"How...?" she said to herself as she closed the door and crossed to the tub, trailing her fingers through the water. She smiled in delight, wondering when Edward had arranged for this special treat. Not willing to let a second of it go to waste, she undressed quickly, sinking into the hot water with an indulgent sigh. She lathered up twice and washed her hair, dunking under the water to rinse, then lay back to enjoy a relaxing soak until the water chilled.

Edward was quickly breaking down her defenses. It was a thought that echoed through her mind as she dressed – choosing the green gown over her shirt and breeches – then emerged on deck a short time later to the sounds of laughter and shouting. She held a lantern aloft as she surveyed the deck of the ship in the darkness, the newly risen moon casting a grayish tinge on her surroundings. She followed the sounds to the stern of the ship, finally leaning over the side to see what in the world was going on. She could just make out the bobbing figures in the water below, the crew members splashing in the gentle waves of the bay.

"Peeping, Bella?" She jumped as Jacob appeared next to her. He laughed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

She smiled at him, noticing his hair was wet, dripping onto his shirt. "It looks like you've been enjoying the sea as well."

He shrugged, leaning against the railing next to her. "It seems rare to have a moment for such things on this ship. I figured if everyone else was taking advantage of it, I should as well." He reached out, lifting a damp strand of her own hair with a questioning look.

"Edward gave me a bath," she said dreamily. Then, at Jacob's wide-eyed gaze, she realized what she'd said. "I mean...he _left_ me a bath. He _had_ someone leave me a bath. Which I had. Alone. By myself." Jacob snorted and she smacked him in the arm. "You knew what I meant."

"Aye," he said, still laughing softly. "I ran into the boys filling the tub earlier."

They turned to watch the men swimming below, and as the moon broke over the trees, Bella could see Edward's head bobbing among the others, his teeth glinting with a wide smile. She wasn't certain, but his head tilted up, almost as if he was looking back at her.

"So you're getting on then?" Jacob asked.

"I'm sorry, what?" She tore her eyes away from Edward's form to look at him.

"You and the captain," he clarified. "You seem to be getting on all right?"

"Oh, yes. Fine, I suppose," she said, Edward's suspicions about Jacob coming to mind suddenly. "And you? How are you getting on with him?"

Jacob blinked in surprise at the question. "All right," he replied. "He's a man of few words, but fair overall, I think."

Bella nodded in satisfaction. He hardly sounded as if he had a grudge against the captain. "And you're...happy on board?"

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Aye. Never thought I'd find a place on a pirate vessel, what with one taking my father and all, but Cullen's assured me I've a chance for vengeance."

"Vengeance." She turned to him, surprised. "So he told you about Aro?"

"You know of him?"

She nodded, and Jacob drew a deep breath. "I barely knew my father," he said, "so I'm sure it seems strange to you that I would want to avenge his death. It's not for him, though, as much as for my mother. When he died…" He looked out over the water, eyes glistening in the moonlight.

"Well, it almost killed her," he said. "If Cullen will give me a chance to repay Aro for that, well, I suppose I'll stay with him. At least for a while."

"And then?"

"Then? I don't really know," he admitted. "I don't see a life on the water. Perhaps it's a bit naive, but I think someday I'd like a home. Maybe even a family."

Bella reached out to touch his arm comfortingly. "Why is that naive?"

Jacob's eyes fixed on her fingers. "I'm like these men. Wanted by the law for crimes against the Crown. It's hard to see a future beyond that."

Bella's heart sank at the words. For Jacob. For Edward. For Jasper and Alice. For herself. So many people with their hopes bound by fate like an ever-tightening coil of rope. She sighed, squeezing his arm gently.

"Don't give up hope," she encouraged him. "It's only a matter of-"

"Smith?" Edward's voice interrupted her consoling speech, and Bella jumped in surprise, whirling around to face him. Her mouth dropped open and she found herself unable to form words.

Or even thoughts, for that matter.

Edward stood before her, soaking wet and all but naked. She couldn't control her gaze as it followed a rivulet of water dripping from his hair down his sculpted chest and along the angry scar running down his ribcage...to the thin cotton drawers that covered him from hip to knee. Or perhaps _covered_ was over-stating it a bit. The wet fabric was nearly transparent where it clung to him along his hipbone, his thick thigh, the crease where he-

Her eyes snapped up. At his smirk, they dropped back down to the deck. And Edward's bare toes. His ankles, his knees...and back up-

Good lord, she had to get a hold of herself. She spun around, focusing on Jacob. Yes, Jacob was safe.

"So, yes. Right," she stammered, trying to remember what they were talking about.

Jacob watched her warily. "It's only a matter of..." he reminded her.

"Time!" she shouted gleefully. "Yes. Only a matter of time. That's right."

"Bloody hell, Smith, what's wrong with you?" Edward asked. Bella hazarded a glance his way, relieved he had his back turned and was apparently fastening his breeches. He pulled a shirt over his head and turned back to face her. "I never took you for such a shrinking violet."

She bristled. "I'm no shrinking violet. But it's hardly proper for a man to go about half-dressed."

"Since when have I ever been concerned with propriety?" He all but leered at her, and Bella's face flamed. His gaze hardened as he turned to Jacob.

"Black? Don't you have duties to attend to?"

Jacob ran a hand through his wet hair. "All finished, Captain. About to turn in for the night." When he made no move to do so, Bella eyed him curiously, then Edward. The two men stared at each other, seeming to communicate through dark gazes but what, exactly, she couldn't determine.

After a long moment, Edward's face tightened almost imperceptibly, then relaxed as he looked at her. "I'm to my quarters, then. Smith, would you care to join me for some dinner? I hear Victor has a pot of Salmagundi on the hob. I choose not to ask what he puts in it, but it's usually quite satisfying." He scooped up his boots and coat as Bella continued to stare at him in confusion.

"Smith?"

She started. "Yes," she said. "That sounds fine. I'll be along in a minute." He nodded, then sent another significant look Jacob's direction before heading toward his quarters, calling for a cabin boy to see to his food. Bella tried not to stare at the bottoms of his bare feet as he made his way across the deck, unsure why she found it so difficult to look away.

She cleared her throat. "So what was that all about?" she asked Jacob.

He laughed. "I should think it was obvious." At Bella's blank look, he rolled his eyes. "He's making certain that I know my place."

"Your place?"

"When it comes to you."

Bella had to think about that for a moment and when she ordained his meaning, she flushed. "Oh, well. He has to keep up appearances, you see. He doesn't know that you know the truth about our...relationship, such as it is."

"Mmm hmmm. And that truth would be?"

"You know." She waved a hand dismissively. "That it's just a ruse...for my protection."

Jacob said nothing for a long while, and once she could no longer stand the silence, she peeked at him sideways to find him fighting a smile.

"What?" she asked irritably.

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

"It's the truth." She stared stubbornly forward over the railing, eyes fixed on a tree in the distance. "There's nothing more to it than that."

"Who are you trying to convince?" Jacob asked quietly. She glared at him, and he held his hands up in front of him.

"I mean no offense," he said. "But I see the way you look at him, Bella. And that's no ruse."

She thought about denying it, but instead leaned forward on the railing, her head in her hands. "Is it that obvious?"

"Not to everyone. But then again, not everyone has seen your reaction to the captain in his drawers." He laughed and Bella groaned, covering her face in embarrassment.

Jacob sobered. "It must be difficult to live this deception for the crew and yet another for him." At Bella's silent response, he turned to lean sideways on the railing, eyeing her with concern. "I consider you a friend, Bella."

"And I, you," she replied quietly.

"Good," he said. "And as your friend, I feel I must ask if you're all right."

She turned to take in his black, somber gaze, and sighed. "I don't know," she said. "It's so foolish, isn't it? To have such feelings for a man like him?"

"Foolish? Perhaps," he said, as they turned once again to look out over the railing, side by side. "Love is often foolish."

She choked slightly. "I said nothing of love."

"You didn't have to."

~0~

Jacob's words haunted her as she made her way back to Edward's quarters. She'd acknowledged her attraction to Edward. Even the fact that she'd grown to like him.

But love? Now that was a dangerous proposition. A terrifying proposition, to put a finer point on it.

Bella took a deep breath, rubbing at the slight ache between her eyes. There was no denying it. She was getting into trouble when it came to Edward, and efforts to guard herself against him seemed to prove fruitless time and time again. He kept taking her by surprise with a smile or a wink, disarming her when she most needed to protect her heart. She was quickly coming to suspect that she had no weapon against him, no way to avoid what now seemed unavoidable.

It was a suspicion that leaned more toward a feeling when she walked into his quarters to find him pouring rum into a tankard, the table set for two with bowls of steaming Salmagundi as well as a plate of fresh bread.

And that feeling became more of a belief when he looked up at her, his handsome face cast in stark shadows by the lantern light as he pulled out a chair for her to sit.

But it was when he reclined across from her, long legs extended and crossed at the ankles – and winked cheekily as she noticed his feet were still bare – that the belief became a full-fledged conviction.

Yes, that was pretty much when Bella Swan realized she was done for.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I know there was not a lot of action this chapter, but it takes a while to sail to Tortuga! Lol! Don't worry – some big answers are coming in the next chapter – and after it posts I'll finally be able to reveal what will be in the **Cutlass **outtake for **Fandom 4 No Kids Hungry**, in addition to Charlie's acquisition of the cutlass. If you'd like to contribute, go to **fandomcause (dot) info**. A $10 donation gets you a compilation from a bunch of different authors. And if we reach the goal of $2000 (we're getting very close), I'm offering up a bonus **Cutlass **outtake, to be decided on by the readers, once the main story is finished.

Teaser will be up on The Fictionators on Monday – next chapter on Tuesday. After it posts, I'm predicting a lot of reviews that say, "I KNEW IT!"

Thanks for reading!


	18. Chapter 18:The Coin

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

For those curious, Salmagundi was a kind of stew pirates ate, basically made up of whatever was on hand – meat, fish, eggs, onions, etc.

****PLEASE SEE A/N AT THE BOTTOM****

* * *

><p><em><strong>The expedition is on my heels, and I must divert its attention. Leading them astray proves time consuming, but essential. My efforts bear fruit, however. They have turned to Hispaniola, as I intended. On the morrow, I depart for the treasure's true location.<strong>_

_**It will be mine.**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 14 September, 1666**_

**Chapter 18: The Coin**

Edward lifted the tankard to his lips, watching Bella across the table. She stirred her bowl of stew but had yet to take a bite, apparently lost in thought. She refused to meet his gaze. Refused, really, to look his way at all. In fact, every time her eyes hazarded a peek in his direction, she flushed and looked away as if she'd done something wrong, her spoon stirring a bit more violently.

"Something bothering you, Smith?" He took a sip of rum and set his tankard down, idly running his finger around the rim. "You seem troubled."

She watched his finger's slow circuit, blinking slowly. He paused, lifting his finger to his lips and rubbing them gently. She followed the movement, then her eyes widened and dropped back down to her Salmagundi.

Edward smiled. It appeared the lovely Miss Swan was not unaffected by him after all. He'd begun to wonder after her reaction to him on deck. At first he thought her simply embarrassed – and he had to admit he reveled in that a little bit. It wasn't easy to unsettle her, but for some reason, he found it extraordinarily satisfying. He shifted, uncrossing then re-crossing his bare feet at the ankles. Bella watched him surreptitiously – or at least he imagined she thought it surreptitious. Her nervous swallow betrayed her, however.

Edward decided to have a bit of fun, schooling his expression into one of haughty irritation.

"Blast it, Smith! Are you drunk again?"

Bella jumped. "What? No. Of course not."

"Well, then what in the world is wrong with you?" He broke off a piece of bread, dunking it into his stew and popping it into his mouth. He purposefully licked at an errant drop at the corner of his lips, fighting a smile at her gaping reaction. He dipped his finger into the stew and lifted it to his mouth, sucking it loudly as he raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Bella's eyes narrowed as she finally caught on to his game. "Stop that."

He forced an innocent look. "Stop what?"

"You know what."

"I've no idea what you're talking about." At that, he grinned and took another bite of his stew, washing it down with a sip of rum. "So, tell me, Smith," he said, finally granting her a reprieve. "What do you plan to do with your share of the treasure?"

She was silent for a moment, considering. "I'm not certain, actually," she replied, sitting back in her chair. "I suppose I could go back to Boston, although there really isn't anything there for me now."

Edward tilted his head. "No boring suitors anxiously awaiting your return?"

Bella's eyes flashed. "And why would my suitors be boring?"

Edward shrugged. "Most suitors are, aren't they? Any worth considering, that is." He stood, swirling the rum in his tankard. "A man of good breeding, steady income, reliable and trustworthy."

"You make those sound like bad things."

"Not bad, no," he replied, glancing over his shoulder as he slowly paced across the room. "Just seems a bit tame for a wench such as yourself." Edward didn't know what made him say that, but he realized it was true. Bella was unlike any female he'd ever encountered before – beautiful, of course, but also smart, stubborn and brave as any man. She needed someone wise enough to listen to her counsel, but strong enough to stand up to her lest she walk all over him.

Someone who wouldn't try to mold her into a prim and proper lady, and extinguish the fire burning inside her. Someone who would not only accept her, but treasure and love her for all that she was.

No, an ordinary man would not do for Bella. She needed someone who…

Someone like…

Edward shook his head, unable – or perhaps unwilling – to finish the thought. A thought he knew was not only dangerous, but absurd. Still, a strand fought its way through, not so much a conscious thought as an idea.

Almost a…_longing_.

But just as quickly as it reared its head, he fought it down as an impossibility. Edward Cullen did not long for unattainable things.

Or people.

He turned around, hoping Bella hadn't noticed his preoccupation. She seemed lost in her own thoughts, however, belatedly asking, "And you? What will you do with the gold?"

Edward leaned against the wall, clearing his throat. "It will go to my family. I've no use for it, after all." He shrugged, staring into his mug for a moment before draining it.

"I think your family would rather have you," she said quietly.

He glanced sharply at her. "I've already told you that is impossible." He crossed back to the table to fill his tankard again. "But the least I can do is to give Alice what she wants."

"What Alice wants," she repeated, shaking her head when he offered more rum. "You mean Jasper."

"Aye." He sat back down, throwing an arm over the back of the chair as he stretched out. "With my share of the gold – along with Jasper's – they can find a life together, somewhere the Crown can't touch them. I owe them both at least that much."

He felt Bella's eyes studying him. "You know about the vow, then," she said.

Edward nodded. Jasper hadn't meant to tell him, but he let it slip after one of his late-night rum indulgences. "I've tried to dissuade him," he said. "Tried to convince him to leave the _Arrow_ now, but he won't hear of it. The bastard is too damned honorable for his own good. Says he can't break his promise.

"But once this is over and Aro's dead? He will finally be released from his blasted vow, and can have the happiness he deserves, far away from all of this." He waved a hand absently and frowned at his tankard before setting it down heavily on the table.

After a long moment, Bella asked, "And what of _your_ happiness?"

Edward looked up, shocked by the tenderness in her eyes. He swallowed thickly but couldn't look away.

And he didn't have an answer.

~0~

Bella's heart broke at Edward's bleak expression. In that moment, she realized that he truly saw no future for himself beyond the _Arrow_ – that he believed he would captain the ship until the day he died.

That that day was most likely not far off.

Before she even realized what she'd done, she found herself extending her hand and laying it over his. He started in surprise, glancing down before hesitantly turning his own palm over, long fingers wrapping around to squeeze hers gently.

"Perhaps things can change," she said quietly.

"How?" The word was harsh. Sad. Hopeful.

In that moment, a string of longing passed between them, joining them together with a tight knot she doubted could be untied – and she could almost feel that he yearned for her as she did for him.

"I don't know." She held his gaze, but he didn't look away. In the distance, Bella could hear the plaintive tones of a fiddle player tuning his strings.

"Who's that?" she asked as the notes formed into a lively melody, quickly accented by a flute and the rumbling beat of a bodhran.

Edward tipped his head, a slow smile lighting his face. "The men like to play when there's an opportunity. Sadly, there's not been much opportunity of late." He stood, not releasing her hand. "Tell me, Smith, do ye dance?" He thickened his accent to lighten the mood, and Bella couldn't help smiling in return.

"Aye, Captain," she shot back, mimicking him as she stood up and let him pull her around the table. "That does sound like a good bit o' fun."

He laughed. "Are ye mocking me, wench?"

"Usually."

Her eyes twinkled, and Edward twirled her under his arm before catching her around the waist. She squeaked out a laugh, and he started to lead her shuffling around the small room, dodging the table and chairs as the music played merrily around them. Bella tried to keep up, her heartbeat quickening as much from his proximity as the dancing. The pensive Edward from a few moments ago had vanished, replaced by the rakish charmer she knew could be devastating to any woman within reach.

And she was definitely within reach.

He spun her around, dipping her over his arm with a cheeky grin. Bella's fingers tightened around his, her other hand gripping his shoulder tightly as her stomach dropped. She gasped, and his gaze flickered to her lips, his smile falling. Slowly, he lifted her to her feet, his arm firm and strong around her waist.

"The music stopped," she whispered. He licked his lips – opened his mouth to speak – but then the flute started up again, a slower song this time, the tune filling out as the fiddle and drum joined in. Edward held her pressed up against him, watching her intently as they began to sway to the music. Then, a masculine voice began to sing the haunting melody, the words floating toward them through the ship.

_My boat's by the tower, and my bark's on the bay_

_And both must be gone at the dark of the day_

_The moon's in her shroud, and to light thee afar_

_On the deck of the daring's a lovelighted star_

Bella's eyes fluttered closed as Edward pulled her closer, tipping his head slightly until his cheek brushed her temple. She could feel his breath on her hair, the heat of his body tingling along her skin, even through her clothes. He began to hum, low and rumbling, along with the song.

_So forgive me my rough mood unaccustomed to sue_

_I woo not, perhaps, as your landlubbers do_

_My voice is attuned to the sound of the gun_

_That startles the deep when the combat's begun_

"Smith, I..." Edward pulled back a little, and she opened her eyes to look up at him, but he seemed to forget what he was going to say. Holding her gaze, he released her hand, fingertips slipping tantalizingly down her arm, across her shoulder, until they came to rest cupping her neck, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against her skin. She stared up at him, mesmerized, any pretense at dancing lost as he muttered a low curse and lowered his lips to hers.

_So wake, lady wake, I am waiting for thee_

_Oh, this night or never my bride thou shalt be_

Any thoughts of why this was a bad idea – a terrible idea, bound to result only in a broken heart – flew out of Bella's mind, scattering like dust in the wind. All she could think about was _more_. More kissing. More touching. More of this.

More of him.

She clung to Edward, trying to regain her balance, but the dizziness refused to dissipate. When his tongue traced along her lips, it seemed natural to part them...to breathe him in and taste him, heat and wet and rum deluging her senses. Her fingers found their way under his thick mass of hair, beads clicking lightly as she scratched at his scalp. He groaned in response, pulling her closer, crushing her to him as he devoured her mouth, the words from the song wrapping around them like a caress.

_So wake, lady wake, I am waiting for thee_

_Oh, this night or never my bride thou shalt be_

"Bloody hell, what am I doing?" Edward murmured against her mouth, lips trailing to suck lightly at her neck. "What are you doing to me?"

Bella tried to respond, but no words would come – only a slight whimper as he tugged at the shoulder of her gown, pulling it down and licking over the revealed skin.

"Yes," she whispered.

_Yes._ What else had she, really? No future. Despite Edward's talk of suitors, she knew there would be none, not after the life she'd lived in the past few weeks. Why not take this now? Why not take whatever Edward could give her?

Tomorrow would worry about itself.

Edward groaned in frustration as he tried to lower the bodice of her gown, only to be thwarted by its tight fit. He reached behind her, deftly unbuttoning the fastenings until it sagged loosely over her bosom. He shoved it down, raining hot kisses along her flesh, dipping his tongue beneath the edge of her shift, his fingers ripping desperately at the ties of her corset.

"Edward..." She choked on the word, breath hitching in her throat with every touch of his lips...his tongue. His fingers scorched her flesh, burning a trail to her very center. Her head fell back as he nosed at her throat, licking into the hollow between her breasts. Abandoning the corset, he reached for her skirts, bunching them in his hand until he could slip his fingers under the hem. He gasped against her neck as he touched the flesh of her thigh, tracing the edge of the garter above her knee. Sliding his hand along the smooth flesh, he groaned, his other hand fisting in the back of her rumpled gown.

The new sensations stole Bella's breath yet again, Edward's rough palm massaging skin that no one else had ever explored. Yet, she couldn't find it in herself to stop him, all shame abandoned the instant he touched her. He worked his thigh between hers, hitching her knee up onto his hip. A sharp jolt of pleasure forced a near scream from her lips.

"Aye," Edward grunted, low and raspy, his hips rocking against hers as he pulled her even tighter against his hardness. His mouth pressed open against the top of her breast, hot and damp against her skin. She found herself pushing back against him, each thrust sending another surge of pleasure through her.

"What's happening?" she gasped, overwhelmed by the curling ache growing in her core, something building deep within her – a burning tension in her muscles that intensified with every roll of Edward's hips. Edward just groaned against her skin, rutting against her with a near desperation that Bella couldn't comprehend. It was all happening so quickly...so fierce and all-consuming. She clung to him, writhing against his body as she chased after something she couldn't identify, but somehow knew she craved.

Then, with a strangled groan, she caught it – a shocking surge of unspeakable pleasure that sparked through her body in wave after wave of delicious release. She clung to him, riding the crest, her body convulsing with each exquisite jolt. Edward moaned, thrusting hard against her once more before arching back, his neck a taut line as he pressed his hips against her. She could feel him throbbing, pulsing against her, and she watched him in amazement as his clenched jaw bit off a string of muttered curses.

They stood there for a long moment, wrapped in each other, the only sounds their harsh breaths and the ripple of the waves – the music long since silenced. Bella half expected Edward to pull away, to raise the wall between them once again, but instead, he simply released her leg, lifting his fingers to stroke her cheek before kissing her softly.

"I think it's time for bed," he said, reaching up to pull the pins from her hair. She watched him as he loosened the tresses, stringing them between his fingers and gently rubbing her scalp. Finally, he stepped back and sat on the bed, bending down to scratch absently at his ankle. Bella clutched at the bodice of her gown, confused and overwhelmed at everything that had just happened. After a moment, she started toward her cot.

"Where are you going?" he asked, standing to remove his breeches. He reached for a cloth, wringing it out in the wash basin before swiping into his drawers. Bella flushed and looked away.

"I was just-" She motioned toward the cot.

Edward chuckled. "Bit late for that, don't you think?" He tossed the cloth back on the table, then reached out and grabbed her by the wrist to pull her toward him. With a smirk, he spun her around, untying her corset with quick fingers.

"Much easier when I can see the blasted thing," he muttered, shoving it and the gown to the floor before dropping to his knees and removing her shoes and stockings. Bella stood stunned, lifting arms and feet when instructed until she stood before him in only her shift. He pulled his shirt over his head and threw back the blankets, sitting on the bed and glancing back at her expectantly. When she hesitated, he rolled his good eye and reached out to take her hand, tugging her between his knees and planting a kiss on her stomach.

"I'm tired, Smith," he murmured against her. "Let's go to sleep."

Unable to resist, Bella lifted her hands, running them over his head before kissing it gently.

"All right," she said.

They crawled between the sheets and Bella rolled onto her side, facing away from him, her heart hammering with nervous uncertainty.

What had she done? What was she_ doing_?

With an impatient huff, Edward wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. He pressed his lips to the back of her neck, and she gasped, shivering slightly.

"You think too much," he said quietly. "Just go to sleep."

Bella closed her eyes and Edward took her hand, his fingers lacing with hers against her chest. His steady breath and the heat of his body lulled her into relaxation, and she found herself melting into him, his heartbeat matching hers – or perhaps hers conforming to his.

A lone flute began to play on deck, the gentle melody fading away as she drifted off to sleep.

~0~

Edward awoke before the sun, Bella's soft warmth along his chest bringing a smile to his face.

He should feel regret. Shame. Yet he didn't. Couldn't. What had happened between them had been a long time coming, if he were to be perfectly honest.

And well worth the wait.

Bella mumbled in her sleep, and Edward lifted his head, propping it on his bent arm as he watched her. The blankets were bunched around her waist, one slender leg curled around the edge. The strap of her shift had fallen off one shoulder, the pale flesh calling to him tantalizingly.

He leaned down, unable to resist pressing a kiss there...and there...lips nibbling along the tender skin. His tongue flicked out, teasing her, and Bella squirmed, rolling onto her back with a soft whimper. Edward fought a groan at the sight of her breasts through the thin shift – so thin he could see the outline of her nipples. He reached up with a finger to trace the peak, which tightened at his touch, pebbling into a delicious nub. He rubbed his thumb around it gently, then over, then around again, and Bella gasped, her eyes flying open.

"What are you doing?"

He smiled. "Good morning." He leaned down to kiss her, a quick touch of lips, a slick of tongue, his hand still on her breast. When he started to pull back, she turned toward him, lifting a hand to the back of his neck to keep him in place.

Edward laughed against her mouth. "Needy wench." Then he stifled her indignant retort with another kiss.

The first light of dawn filtered through the porthole, and Edward pulled away reluctantly. "We'll need to set sail for Tortuga soon," he murmured, kissing her once more. "I'll not be wanting to start something I'm not able to finish satisfactorily."

Bella blushed. "Of course not." She started to get out of bed, but Edward held her in place.

"Not just yet, Smith," he said, kissing along her neck. "We have a few minutes."

"A few minutes?" she repeated, gasping as he bit her earlobe. "But what if someone comes by?"

"So what?"

"They'll – _Oh! –_ catch us."

Edward considered that. On the one hand, he had no problem – obviously – with the men knowing Bella was his. On the other hand...

He looked at her, splayed across the bed, all flushed skin and heaving breasts. No, no one else should see her like that.

Ever.

"Perhaps you're right," he said, shifting away from her.

"What?" Her eyes were glazed, lips full and bruised from his kisses. Edward felt a surge of satisfaction at the sight but pulled the sheets up over her chest.

"We should get dressed," he said.

"But-" Bella sat up, the strap of her shift descending further, revealing an expanse of creamy breast. "It's barely sunrise."

Edward swallowed thickly, reaching out to touch her without realizing it. His fingers traced the curve of her shoulder, stroked the mound of her breast, curling around the chain she wore around her neck.

"Damn it, Smith, what you do to me," he muttered, pulling the chain and leaning in to kiss her. She sank into the kiss, and he smiled against her lips. "But I'll not have my men privy to all your many charms, you tempting wench."

Bella frowned at him, but her cheeks pinkened, and Edward thought she might have been secretly pleased. He toyed with the chain around her neck.

"Why do you always wear this?" he asked, lying on his side and again resting on his elbow.

She shrugged, pulling up the strap of her shift. It fell down again, and Edward grinned victoriously.

"My father gave it to me," she said. "He said it was a good luck charm."

"Good luck?" Edward pulled the chain out from beneath her shift, examining the silver charm hanging from it. It was a flat disk, worn and misshapen around the edges – about the size of a button on his best coat – with a small hole punched in the top for the chain, another larger one just off center.

"He used to tell me stories about it, and how it came to have the hole," Bella explained, tucking her knees under her. "Once it stopped the ball from a pistol fired by a revolutionary against a Russian prince. Another time he told me it was an arrow – destined for a fair maiden – caught in the charm when her true love threw himself in its path." She smiled at the memory, and Edward couldn't help smiling back.

"No tales of pirates?" he asked with a wink.

"Of course," she grinned, taking the charm and tapping it against her lips thoughtfully. "The dastardly pirate-" She smirked at him. "-kept it close at all times, because peeking through the hole gave him unbelievable power."

Edward watched her lips as she rubbed the charm over them, hypnotized. "What kind of power?"

"To see other worlds – worlds of adventure and treasure."

"What good to see them, if you couldn't reach them?"

Bella laughed. "Who says he couldn't reach them?" She released the charm and it fell against her chest, spinning slightly and catching the growing daylight.

Edward froze, then sat up abruptly, reaching out to take the charm in his fingers.

"What's wrong?" Bella asked.

He studied the silver disk. One side was worn almost flat, the carving barely detectable at first, and not discernible at all.

Edward flipped it over, his heart beginning to thump in his chest. The design on the other side was a bit more evident, enough visible around the hole for him to recognize the familiar image of a shield.

"Edward? What is it?"

He looked up at her. "Do you know what this is?" Why hadn't he considered it? Why hadn't he thought of it before?

"It's just a trinket," she replied. "Only of sentimental value, nothing more."

Edward shook his head. "You don't understand," he said, excitement building in his chest. "This is a Spanish _reale_."

She frowned. "A _reale?_"

"I can't believe you had it the whole time," he muttered. "I can't believe you didn't _tell_ me."

"Tell you what, Edward?" she asked, and the confusion in her expression put to rest any suspicion that she'd known what she had in her possession.

"This!" he said, lifting the chain until the charm dangled before her eyes. "It's not a charm, Smith. It's a coin! A Spanish coin!"

Bella gaped at him as understanding set in. "But...but it can't be. You said the coin would be something special. This is..._nothing._"

"It's not nothing," he retorted. "Ponder it, Smith. Your father – who found the cutlass – just happened to also pass on a coin to you. It can't be a coincidence."

She took the coin in her hand, looking at it with new eyes. "He told me never to take it off," she murmured. "To keep it close to my heart and it would always keep me safe."

"A perfect hiding place. No one would ever suspect."

"More lies," Bella muttered. "More secrets." She pulled the chain over her head, holding it out to Edward as she fought off tears. "You might as well take it. Put it in the chest with the rest."

"Bella, your father-"

"My father was a liar," she said flatly.

"Your father," Edward continued, reaching out to take the coin, "was a good man. And I believe if he was after the treasure, it was for you. He loved you, Bella. I know that. _You_ know that."

She closed her eyes, forcing tears down her cheeks as her shoulders fell. "I don't know what I know anymore."

"Yes, you do."

She looked up at him with shining eyes. He reached over and placed the chain back over her head, settling the charm gently against her chest.

"Whatever reason he gave you this, it is something that was important to both of you," he said. "You should keep it."

"But what about the treasure?"

"We'll address that when the time comes." He leaned in to kiss her, then smiled. "Now, we're for Tortuga, Smith. I suggest you get dressed if you expect to go ashore."

Bella sniffed, smiling slightly. "Aye, Captain."

"That's more like it," he said with a wink, turning to get out of bed. "And for God's sake, don't wear those dreadful breeches."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Bella smirked. She was going to wear the breeches.

Edward sighed in resignation. "Well, at least button your bloody coat."

He opened the door and shouted for his breakfast, the sounds of the ship coming to life bursting through the open door. He turned back to see Bella studying the coin, a tender smile on her face. Then, with a heavy breath, she tucked it into her shift and wiped away her tears, heading behind the screen to get dressed.

Edward didn't know exactly what would happen once they did find the treasure – and Aro – but he did know one thing.

Leaving Isabella Swan would be the most difficult thing he'd ever have to do.

In fact, he was beginning to wonder if it was even possible.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ** The song Edward and Bella danced to was an actual sea chanty used by pirates, as well as other sailors. It was a bit more upbeat than I've depicted it here, but because I liked the lyrics, I adapted it for my purposes.

If you'd like to see what Bella's coin looks like – go here: pics (dot) livejournal (dot) com/tkegl/pic/000zecz1 to see a Spanish reale cobbed in the late 16th/early 17th century. Bella's would have been a bit older than this one, but it will at least give you an idea what it looks like. There were eight reales in a Spanish dollar, also called _pesos de ocho_ – or pieces of eight.

****Due to demands of real life this week, there will be no Cutlass update next Tuesday, June 5th.** **Teaser for Ch. 19 will be up on The Fictionators on Monday, June 11****th****, and the next update will post Tuesday, June 12****th****. Thank you for your patience. ****


	19. Chapter 19: Tortuga

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **Thanks so much for your patience as I dealt with some real life issues last week. It's nothing bad – just a ton of things I had to get done for work, at home, and for my new book. Got a lot done, so hopefully I won't need to delay updating again.

As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

* * *

><p><em><strong>At long last, I have found it.<strong>_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 19 September, 1666**_

**Chapter 19: Tortuga**

The sun was high in the sky when the _Black Arrow _made port in Tortuga, the men completing their tasks in double time in the hopes of making the most of their time ashore. The ship was relatively secure – tucked in a hidden cove, around the point from the town proper – so all but a few were allowed to indulge in the entertainments the island had to offer. Edward had assigned a couple of men to keep watch at the entry to the cove, and a few cabin boys were left behind on the ship with a cask of ale and instructions to fetch help if anything went amiss.

Edward would have preferred to have procured whatever information Rosalie had obtained and left soon after. He knew, however, that these brief moments of respite were what kept his men going through weeks on the run – or worse yet, fighting for their very lives. So he'd granted a few hours of drink and debauchery once their mission was complete, along with a stern warning that each man would be expected to do his duty when he returned to the ship, so they'd best not indulge too heavily.

He wasn't too worried. If there was one thing he knew about his men, it was that they could handle their rum.

With an impatient sigh, he leaned against a palm tree, waiting for the others to join him, his eye warily watching Jacob Black. The man stood talking with one of the younger crew men, a native like Black, and the younger man listened raptly to whatever Black was saying. Black gestured wildly as he spoke, then stopped, staring at the crew man expectantly. After a moment, the younger man burst out laughing, and Black smacked him on the back with a smile before turning to walk toward Edward.

Edward bit the inside of his cheek. Bella was convinced that Jacob was trustworthy, but Edward still had his doubts. He knew his decision to take the native along on this mission raised some eyebrows, particularly on the part of Jasper, but Edward firmly believed in keeping his friends close and his enemies closer.

He still wasn't quite certain which Jacob Black was just yet.

"Where are the others?" Jacob asked as he drew nearer.

Edward nodded toward the water where McCarty was splashing through the shallow water, carrying Bella in his arms while Jasper trailed behind. The cove was ideal for their purposes, a deep channel edged by shallow water enabling them to disembark without use of a dinghy, and they'd used it many times before. Edward fought back a rush of jealousy at the sight of his Master Rigger with his hands on his—on Bella. He knew McCarty was simply trying to keep the woman's boots dry, and he would have done the job himself if he hadn't had to see to the early scouting party. McCarty set her down on the sand with a grin, steadying her with a hand on her elbow as she regained her footing. She was wearing the blasted breeches – of course – and gripped her sword hilt with a wide smile, straightening her hat before starting across the sand toward Edward.

"I'm surprised you let her out of your sight," Jacob mused.

Edward only growled in response. Jacob chuckled.

"Sorry, we took so long, I needed to-" Bella came to an abrupt stop, her eyes widening slightly.

"What's wrong?" Edward asked.

"What are you wearing?" she blurted, clapping a hand to her mouth as if she could force the words back.

He looked down at his clothes in confusion. Jenks had his coat and hat, but other than that, Edward was dressed in his usual shirt, breeches and boots, his cutlass and flintlocks strapped about his hips. "What are you talking about?"

Jasper, insightful as always, pulled McCarty along the path, motioning for Jacob to join them. "We'll just be waiting over here," he said in response to Edward's confused look. The captain turned back to Bella, frowning at her open collar.

"Would you please button your shirt?" he muttered. When she made to do so with trembling fingers, not meeting his gaze, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Now, what are you on about, Smith?"

"It's nothing," she muttered, face aflame. "It's just...your..." She waved a hand toward his legs.

"My what?"

"Your breeches," she hissed, looking for all the world like she'd rather be somewhere else – anywhere else. "You weren't wearing those earlier."

Edward wondered if perhaps Bella had hit her head on the trip from the ship.

"No," he said carefully. "I caught them on a nail and ripped a hole in them, so I had to change. You can feel free to mend them whenever you've a mind to."

"Don't you have any others?" she asked, almost desperately.

"Aye, but I chose these," he replied, confusion quickly turning to irritation. "Now what on earth is wrong with my breeches?" He held his hands up, examining them closely. "Are they torn?" He turned around and Bella let out a choked sound. When he turned back to her, she seemed even redder, if that were possible, her mouth parted on a gasp.

"It's just...they're so _tight," _she said, swallowing thickly. "And _leather. _That can't be comfortable." She tore her eyes away.

It took Edward a moment, but he was nothing if not insightful, and with the dawning of realization, he leaned his shoulder against the tree with a satisfied smirk.

"Actually, they're quite comfortable," he said archly. He might have also purposely hitched his hip outward just a little bit more than usual.

Perhaps.

Bella's eyes widened again, then she turned her attention to another tree, apparently finding its bark extraordinarily interesting. She cleared her throat.

"Shouldn't we be going?"

"In a moment." He turned so his back was against the tree, hips thrust outward invitingly. "Smith?"

"Hmmm?" She tracked the pattern in the bark with a fingertip, then turned abruptly to look out over the water. "Lovely weather, isn't it?"

Edward laughed. "The weather? Are you serious?"

"Well, it is lovely," she stammered, waving at the sky. "So clear and blue. And the sea is...so...clear. And blue." She swallowed, shifting uncomfortably on her feet.

"Smith." Edward shifted again, not missing the quick dart of her eyes at the movement. "Do you have a problem with my breeches?"

"Problem? No, of course not. Whyever would I have a problem?" She studiously avoided looking his direction.

Edward pushed off the tree, moving toward her. He saw her start slightly and step away, then her jaw tightened and she stepped back.

Brave girl.

He moved to her side, a little behind her, so her left leg was bracketed by both of his. She glanced down when his leather-clad thigh brushed hers, and gulped.

"What are you doing?" Her voice cracked.

He leaned in, unable to resist, his lips brushing against her ear. He felt her shudder as he murmured, "You like them."

She inhaled sharply. "I don't."

"Oh, I think you do." He reached out to grab her wrist, all teasing forgotten with the wave of heat coming off her body. She gave no resistance as he pulled her hand toward his leg, laying her open palm over his thigh. Bella gasped, her fingers clenching involuntarily in the soft leather, molding to his muscular flesh.

Edward hissed, pressing his open mouth to her neck. At the sound of a throat clearing, he stifled a groan, stepping back reluctantly. Bella's hand drifted from his thigh and fell against her side. He turned to see Jasper watching him with an amused expression.

"Captain, I hate to interrupt, but we really should be going."

Edward took a deep breath, realizing that now his breeches really _were_ a bit uncomfortable. "Yes. Of course. Right. Be right there." Jasper nodded, turning to walk away, and Edward adjusted himself a bit, under the guise of adjusting his sword belt. "Shall we, Smith?"

She glared at him. "That wasn't very nice," she accused.

"I'm rarely nice."

She gave him a measured look for a long moment, then lifted her chin in challenge. "You know?" she said sweetly. "It is a bit warm, isn't it? I don't think I need this coat." She removed her sword belt, then unbuttoned the coat, folding it carefully and draping it over a low log. The slight sea breeze fitted the thin fabric of her shirt to her body, making it cling along her breasts, her tiny waist. With another glare at Edward she pointedly unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt, then propped her fists on her hips. "There. That's much better."

Edward gritted his teeth, ignoring the surge of lust shooting through him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What?" She mimicked his guileless expression.

"Put your coat back on," he ordered.

"I think you like it," she taunted, throwing back her shoulders.

Edward ripped the coat from the log, thrusting it at her. "Smith, if you don't put this coat on, you are not coming along." They glared at each other stubbornly for a moment, then Edward sighed heavily, looking into her eyes. "It's imperative that you escape unwanted attention," he said earnestly. "Believe me, if you go into town like that, Hunter will be the least of our problems."

Bella studied him carefully, then rolled her eyes, grabbing the coat and putting it on. "Doesn't seem fair," she muttered.

Edward hid his relief under a smug grin. "Life usually isn't." She buckled her sword belt with a mulish frown, and Edward couldn't resist adding, "Look on the bright side. You can enjoy my breeches all you like."

"Arse," she muttered.

"Such language!" He laughed, then on impulse wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her close and planting a hard kiss on her mouth. He pulled away, taking her hand and leading her toward the others, only releasing her when they started down the path toward town.

Every now and then he'd glance back to find Bella's eyes fixed on his leather-clad backside. But instead of blushing when he caught her, she'd just stick out her tongue and mutter to herself.

Edward decided maybe he should get another pair of leather breeches.

~0~

Bella couldn't take her eyes off those blasted breeches. No matter how much she tried to focus on the trees or the sand before her feet or even the conversation Jacob was trying to have with her, her gaze kept returning to Edward's firm backside, clad in soft, supple leather.

She might have even caught herself trying to reach out and touch it once or twice.

Edward knew, too, which was embarrassing, but did little to stop her apparently uncontrollable libido. He'd smirk at her and she'd want to be angry, but then she'd have a flash of the night before, that indescribable pleasure he'd brought her, and all she could do was force a glare until he turned back around.

Then she'd stare at his backside again.

Bella feared she was becoming quite the insatiable trollop.

Fortunately, they arrived in town, enabling her to firmly push back any further considerations of Edward, his breeches, or his rather talented thighs. They gathered at the edge of the main road, and Edward fixed them all with a firm look.

"We all know the plan," he said. "Black, you and Bella keep watch outside while McCarty, Whitlock, and I go in to speak to Rosalie. I doubt Hunter will find his way here any time soon, but the bastard has fooled me before."

Jacob nodded grimly. "Aye, Captain."

With that, Edward, Jasper, and Emmett made their way to the entrance of the _Wild Rose_. Jacob sauntered over to a shop across the street, leaning casually against the corner porch railing. Bella took a spot under a tree just outside the tavern, one that provided a view through the wide front window.

If she was going to be kept out of the action, she was going to make certain she could at least see it.

It only took a moment before she spotted Edward and the others sitting down at a table, a serving wench placing jugs of ale before them. She smiled at Edward, then sat in his lap, and Bella stiffened. He whispered something in the girl's ear and she giggled, wrapping her arms around Edward's neck with a familiar air.

Was this the elusive Rosalie? Bella pulled her hat low over her eyes to hide her appraising stare. The girl was petite, larger than Bella, but still small enough to fit comfortably in Edward's lap. She wore an ill-fitting, garish blue gown, hanging loose off one shoulder to reveal her pale skin. Light brown hair was piled on her head, a few strands clinging to her face from the heat, and her eyes were dark – outlined with kohl, no doubt – her cheeks rouged and lips red with stain.

Bella bit her own lip, pale and pink, jealousy burning in her gut.

After a moment, Edward whispered in the wench's ear again and she nodded, standing up. Edward smacked her backside and the group laughed as the girl slapped his arm playfully, then proceeded through a dark hallway at the back of the room.

Bella shifted against the tree, sparing one look across the street at Jacob before turning back to the window. A few minutes later, the wench came back into the main room with another woman – tall, blonde and breathtakingly beautiful. The blonde smiled at the group of men, embracing each of them before settling down in the empty chair at the table. She and Edward spoke – apparently in hushed tones, since they all leaned in to listen. After a moment, she stood up, turning to Emmett and beckoning with a finger and a wink. The Master Rigger grinned and stood immediately, taking her hand as she led him up the stairs in the back of the room. Edward and Jasper, meanwhile, sat back, exchanging a frustrated shrug before signaling the serving wench for another mug of ale.

"Bella?" Jacob's quiet voice startled her, and she jumped, stifling a shriek.

"What?" she hissed.

Jacob raised an eyebrow. "For someone who's supposed to be keeping watch, you don't seem to be watching much. Out here, at least." He gave a pointed glance toward the window, where the serving wench was leaning on the table next to Jasper, offering a view of her ample bosom.

Bella glared at Jacob. "Did you need something?"

All joking aside, he nodded. "I think I saw someone suspicious down the street a bit," he said. "I'm not certain, but I thought I'd go look into it. I wanted to make sure you'll be all right here by yourself."

"Suspicious?" Bella felt a chill down her spine. "Who?"

"I don't know. I thought I saw someone watching the tavern, but I also might be imagining things. I'd rather poke around a bit before interrupting the captain." He looked toward the window, where Edward was laughing at something the wench said. "He's obviously quite busy."

Bella snorted. "Obviously." She straightened. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, it's better if you stay here and keep an eye on things. I shouldn't be long."

She nodded. "All right then. Be careful."

Jacob just nodded before melting into the shadows of the buildings and making his way down the street. Bella scanned the area but saw nothing out of place – just a lot of drunken men walking down the streets, some singing gleefully off-key. A group sat crouched on the ground in an alley a short distance away throwing dice and cheering loudly. She sighed, looking back toward the window. She had a sneaking suspicion that Edward's decision to have her stay outside had little to do with keeping watch and more to do with keeping her out of the way.

The wench was in Edward's lap again, laughing at something Jasper had said. Bella gritted her teeth, eyes narrowing consideringly when she spotted a shadowed alcove near the open front door serving as a storage area for a few stacked crates.

If she was there, she could still keep watch _and_ see and hear what was going on inside the tavern. It seemed a logical choice, much better than standing outside near a tree where she'd be of little use should something happen.

The wench wrapped a rope of Edward's hair around her finger. He winked. Bella fumed.

Yes. It would be a much better position. Logistically speaking.

With a quick glance over her shoulder, she made her way to the alcove, slipping easily behind the boxes. From her position, no one could see her unless they were looking, but she could easily see the street, as well as Edward's table inside the tavern. She could hear the laughter, the teasing comments, and for a moment she felt sick to her stomach when she thought about what had happened the night before.

What was she thinking? Obviously, their encounter meant little to the pirate. Things like that probably happened to him all the time – women throwing themselves at him, debasing themselves for him. She'd been ridiculous to think it could be of any importance to such a man.

She watched him sprawled in the chair, the brown-haired wench comfortably seated in his lap, and felt like such a fool.

A movement near the street caught Bella's attention, and she stiffened at the sight of a group of men walking toward the tavern. The leader wore a red coat with brass buttons, a sword buckled about his hips and – of all things – a parrot sitting on his shoulder. He turned to one of his companions, and Bella caught the word "Cullen", eliciting a flash of panic. She ducked further into the shadows, wondering what to do.

"Are ye certain he's inside?" the leader asked, the parrot echoing "inside" with a loud squawk.

"Aye, Sir."

The leader grinned. "Excellent. The reward on his head will be well worth my trouble. Is he alone?"

"Dunno. Jest heard the _Arrow_ made port and Cullen came straight here."

"No matter. We'll just slip inside and see what's what, yes?" The parrot squawked "Yes!" and the men went into the tavern.

Bella came out from her hiding place, quickly scanning the area in search of Jacob. She could go find him, but by then, who knew what the man with the parrot could do? She fisted her sword, wishing she could signal Edward, but he had yet to spot her. Instead, she hurried around the side of the tavern, exhaling with relief when she spotted another entrance. She slipped quietly into the main room, taking a seat in a quiet corner. She watched the man with the parrot circle the room, his men moving in the opposite direction. After scanning the faces, he nodded at his men and bellowed loudly, "I'm looking for One-Eyed Eddie!"

The room fell silent, the parrot's echo of "One-Eyed Eddie! One-Eyed Eddie!" resounding in the quiet. She saw Edward's fist tighten around his tankard as the wench quickly got up from his lap, hurrying up the stairs. He exchanged a look with Jasper, and the parrot man smirked, approaching Edward from the front while his companions circled around behind, casually leaning against the wall. The man stood, legs splayed with his back to Bella, and her eyes darted about, coming to rest on the jug of rum on a shelf beside her. Quietly, she seized the half-empty jug, bringing it to rest on the table before her.

"You One-Eyed Eddie?" the man asked.

"I'd watch yerself, man," Jasper warned.

He laughed. "Watch myself? I'd say yer captain here ought to watch himself. There's quite a bounty on 'is 'ead, you know? And I, fer one, aim to claim it."

Then, a flurry of things happened all at once.

The parrot squawked.

The man in the red coat reached for his sword.

Edward reached for his.

And Bella emerged from the shadows, swinging the rum jug at the man's head with all of her strength. He fell to a knee, the parrot alighting on a nearby table. The blow didn't incapacitate him, however. Instead, he turned angry eyes on Bella, rising up to his full height and raising his sword with a furious growl.

"Bloody hell," she murmured, reaching for her own sword.

"Bloody hell!" the parrot squawked.

The man's sword flashed toward her, and for a moment she thought it was all over. But with a mighty yell, Edward barreled toward them, boots clunking on the wooden tables until he flew toward the man, knocking him aside at the last moment. They landed on the floor in a tangle of limbs before Edward deftly leapt to his feet. He glanced at Bella.

"I thought you were waiting outside."

She swallowed nervously, the near-blow making her more than a little dizzy. "I thought you might need my help."

The parrot man surged to his feet, swinging his sword at Edward, who deflected it easily. "Well, I appreciate the gesture, Smith. But next time, use a pistol."

Bella heard a shout, and the man's companions came toward them, one intercepted by Jasper, the other dodging around them, lunging toward Edward. Bella drew her sword.

"Behind you!" she shouted, swinging at the man and slicing his upper arm. Surprised, he turned on her with a bellow.

And that was when all hell broke loose.

~0~

Edward whirled about just in time to see Bella strike the man on his flank across the upper arm. Blood oozed from the wound, and he turned on Bella with an angry shout.

"Damn it," Edward muttered, shoving his attacker back with a well-placed kick to the stomach. The man stumbled over a chair and fell to the floor, and Edward whirled about to help Bella.

She clutched her sword with both hands, brow creased in concentration as she tried to remember what he'd taught her. She moved quickly, dodging and deflecting the man's quick blows. Fortunately, he was no expert swordsman, and Edward felt a surge of pride that she was holding her own. Bella spun around, slashing at the man's leg, and he howled in pain when she hit home.

The tavern erupted in chaos, fists flying and swords flashing in the light from the windows. Bella clambered up onto a table, gripping the beam above her head with one hand as she kicked at her opponents face with all her might. With a mighty crack, the man's head jerked back, blood spurting from his surely-broken nose. He clutched at his nose with his free hand, advancing on her with his sword held high. Edward stepped in and, with a few precise thrusts, disarmed the man and knocked him out with an elbow to his broken nose.

"I had him," Bella said, lifting her sword to deflect the blow from another drunken fighter.

"You're welcome," Edward replied with a cocky grin, lifting Bella down from the table. Parrot man had regained his footing and came toward them with a determined expression. Around them, the fight had no rhyme or reason – other than Jasper fighting off the parrot man's accomplice, everyone was just drunk and punching whoever came into range.

This was not what Edward had planned when he'd entered the _Wild Rose. _Rosalie had told him a man named Riley would bring the box to the tavern, but she had no idea when exactly he might show up. She'd just shrugged apologetically and offered the comforts of her establishment while they waited.

Including Jessica, of course. The wench wasn't picky about her company, but she always preferred Edward when he was in town. He'd flirted with her out of habit, more than anything, and an attempt to remain inconspicuous. Inconspicuous, however, now seemed a bit out of reach.

"If anyone gets blood on my new coat, I will not be happy," Bella muttered, picking up her discarded jug of rum to smash into a man's face.

"Seawater's good for blood stains," Edward replied, his sword clanging mightily. Bella handed him the jug – it still hadn't broken, and she would later wonder at the sturdy nature of rum jugs – and he swung it at the man with the broken nose, who was crawling to his feet. He crumpled to the floor once again.

An ear-shattering crack filled the air and everybody froze, turning as one toward the stairway at the back of the room. Rosalie stood on the landing in all her glory, blonde hair flowing wild around her head and a lace dressing gown hugging her every curve as she lowered a smoking shotgun into the crook of her arm.

"That will be quite enough!" she shouted. Emmett stood behind her, his shirt untucked and rumpled. Edward knew he was aching to join the fight, but Rosalie would have none of it. Abruptly, she raised the gun to her shoulder, and Edward followed its aim to see the man with the red coat and his companion inching their way toward the door. Rosalie cocked the gun and they froze at the sound.

"I take it you're the ones responsible for this nonsense?" she asked. When they didn't respond, one of the drunken fighters spat on the floor.

"He's after the bounty on One-Eyed-" At Edward's glare, he corrected, "Errr...on Captain Cullen."

The parrot fluttered his wings and squawked, "One-Eyed Eddie! One-Eyed Eddie!"

"Indeed?" Rosalie hissed, eyes narrowing on the backs of the men by the door. "Turn around," she ordered.

The men did as instructed, hands held high.

"My place is a safe haven to all," she said, shotgun never wavering. "But it no longer is for you. Come around here again, and I'll fill you full of buckshot, is that clear?"

The men nodded, the one in the red coat mumbling, "Yes'm."

"I'll be speaking to my friends, as well. Others with business concerns on the island," she warned. "And they won't take kindly to greedy bastards such as yourselves bringing trouble to Tortuga. I suggest you set sail and don't return to the island for a good, long time."

She paused, then rolled her eyes in irritation. "Go on now!" she shouted. "Be gone!"

The men scrambled out the door, their colleague with the broken nose staggering out after them.

"You!" Rosalie shouted, pointing at a couple of large men by the door. "Clean this mess up, and be quick about it." She descended the rest of the stairs, making her way to Edward.

"You all right?" she asked, taking Emmett's hand and wrapping it around her waist as he moved next to her.

"Fine," Edward replied, sheathing his sword. "Sorry for bringing you this trouble."

Rosalie waved a hand in dismissal. "All in a day's work." She turned penetrating blue eyes on Bella. "And who might this be?"

"Rosalie Hale, Isabella Swan. She's a...guest on board for a while."

"A guest?" Rosalie lifted a perfect blonde eyebrow. "I wasn't aware the _Arrow_ was a passenger vessel."

"I'm not a passenger," Bella replied, sliding her sword back into his sheath, and wiping her hands on her breeches. "Not really, anyway."

"Bella's part of the crew," Jasper interjected, smiling when Bella shot him a surprised look.

"Really?" Rosalie's appraising gaze raked over Bella, taking in her masculine clothes. Bella shifted uncomfortably but raised her chin, looking the woman directly in the eye.

"That's right," she said, squaring her shoulders in challenge.

Rosalie studied her for a moment, then a slow, wide smile split her face. "Well, you certainly know how to use a sword," she said admiringly. "Do you think you could teach me that?"

Bella let out a relieved breath, smiling back. "You seem to do all right with a shotgun."

Rosalie laughed. "All part of the job," she said, reaching out to tuck her arm through Bella's elbow. "Come on, now. Let's sit down and you can tell me all about life on a pirate ship."

"Rosie," Emmett whined, glancing longingly toward the stairs.

"Oh, drat." Rosalie glanced at Emmett, then shrugged apologetically at Bella. "Duty calls."

"Hey!" he shouted, reaching out when she darted out of his reach.

"I'll be back, Bella, and we'll have a good, long chat," Rosalie called as she raced up the stairs, Emmett hot on her heels. "Until then, a round of ale on the house!"

Cheers rang out at the announcement, and Edward turned to Bella with a questioning grin.

"You were right," Bella said, smiling back. "I love her."

"No surprise," Edward retorted. "You're both stubborn wenches."

Bella took a deep breath, eyes scanning the disorder in the room and coming to rest on a puddle of blood on the floor. She blinked, the excitement from the past few minutes waning and leaving her feeling a little weak. She swayed slightly on her feet.

"Smith? You all right?"

Bella looked up at Edward, spots appearing before her eyes. "I've never… I just… the blood…" She began to gasp for air, her vision swimming.

Blood. There was a lot of blood. She lifted her hand, staring at the splatter of red across the palm.

"I think I'm going to-"

If Bella had remained conscious, she might have been impressed by Edward's rather colorful curses as he hurried to catch her before she hit the floor.

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><p><strong>AN: **Teaser for Ch. 20 will be up on The Fictionators on Monday – www . fictionators . com. Next update on Tuesday.

Thanks for reading!


	20. Chapter 20: Every Pirate Ship Needs a Pa

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **Thanks so much for all your kind words about this story. I'm sorry I've been unable to reply to reviews – just have a lot on my plate at the moment – but please know I do appreciate every one. Thank you!

As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

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><p><em><strong>I live in constant fear that what I have claimed will be taken from me. And now, I have learned that it is not only my fortune that is at risk, but that of my unborn child.<strong>_

_**My dear Mary says he will come with the spring. His future is of the utmost import. For my heir, I must find a way to protect the treasure.**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 2 October, 1666**_

**Chapter 20: Every Pirate Ship Needs a Parrot**

Bella sipped her ale, more embarrassed than dizzy once she'd recovered from her swoon, and Edward finally left off teasing her to relay what Rosalie had told them.

"This man bringing the box – Riley. Can he be trusted?" she asked.

"Rosalie said she paid him well. For enough coin, anyone is trustworthy."

"I don't know about that," Bella said doubtfully. "This whole thing makes me nervous."

"Me too," Jasper muttered.

"Well, we don't have much choice at this point." Edward sat back, swirling the ale in his tankard before taking a long drink. "Riley says he has the box, so all we can do is wait." He studied his mug for a moment, then turned to Bella. "Where is Black, anyway? How did you get in here without dragging him with you?"

Bella flushed, embarrassed that she'd completely forgotten about Jacob in the melee. "He thought he saw someone suspicious down the road. He went to check it out, but he should have been back by now."

Edward stiffened, and Jasper stood immediately, hurrying out the front door. He returned a few minutes later, looking much relieved.

"He's out front," he said. "Everything is fine."

"Oh, good," Bella said with a heavy exhale. "I can't believe I forgot-"

At that moment, the brown-haired serving wench propped her hip on the table, leaning forward on her arm so her breasts all but fell out of her gown. "You boys need another round?" she asked with a suggestive wink. "Or maybe a bit o' entertainment upstairs?"

Bella ground her teeth in irritation. "No, thank you," she muttered.

The girl turned to Bella, eyes widening in surprise. "You're no boy."

"Brilliant one, aren't you?" Bella snapped.

Edward raised a brow, but Bella reddened and looked away.

"Thank ye, Jessica, but no more ale at the moment," he said to the girl, pouring on the accent. "We've business t'discuss and need t'keep our wits about us."

Jessica pouted, toying with Edward's hair again. "Oh, that's no fun, Eddie. You used to be much more fun."

Bella fought the urge to gouge her eyes out.

Edward, however, was much more diplomatic. He nodded toward a man watching the exchange from across the room. "There," he said. "That bloke looks more than willing to sample yer charms."

Jessica followed his gaze, then patted her hair, shooting the man a smile. "Aye," she murmured. "And he looks like he has a bit o' coin as well." Without another word, she stood up from the table and sauntered over to the man, slipping into his lap with a laugh.

"Rather fickle, don't you think?" Bella muttered.

Edward laughed. "Jessica's all right," he said. "The girl has to make a living." He leaned across the table, running a finger along Bella's flushed cheek. "Why, Smith, I do believe you're jealous."

"I am not!" She took a gulp of ale, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. When Edward just fixed her with a smug stare, she added, "I just think you should keep your mind on business, that's all. There's no time for...dalliances."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "You didn't seem to mind last night."

Bella gasped in outrage, and Jasper stood up abruptly, his chair scraping across the floor.

"Right then," he said, not looking directly at either of them. "I'll just..." He waved a hand toward the back of the room. "Outhouse," he muttered, turning on his heel and hurrying outside.

"How dare you!" Bella hissed. "Perhaps for you that was a mere dalliance, but for me-" She blinked, embarrassed at what she'd almost revealed. The last thing she needed was for Edward to realize how much it had meant to her.

Edward took a deep breath, his gaze softening.

_Too late._

"I apologize," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to belittle-"

"It's nothing."

"It wasn't…" Edward fixed her with an intent look. "Nothing."

"Edward-"

"Smith!" Edward shook his head, as if trying to find the right words. "Bella," he corrected. "I owe you an apology for last night. I never should have taken advantage-"

"You can't be serious," Bella snapped. "You're going to take the blame for last night? Like I was just some helpless female who couldn't help herself?"

"I'm trying to be chivalrous!" Edward replied, affronted.

Bella snorted. "You're being ridiculous!" When Edward just stared at her, stunned, she added, "I knew what I was doing last night, Edward. For you to try and take the blame... Well, it's insulting, that's what it is."

"It is?"

"It is."

"Oh." Edward swallowed, still looking a bit unsure. "Well, then. I apologize for...that...then, I suppose."

"Apology accepted." Bella took another sip of her ale.

Edward still appeared to be trying to figure out what had just happened. After a moment, he said quietly, "Jessica is a friend. Nothing more."

Bella shrugged. "It's none of my business."

He hesitated briefly before reaching across the table, placing a fleeting touch across the back of her hand. "I just wanted you to know."

Bella met his gaze, trying to read his intent. She was lost when it came to Edward, in a constant state of confusion and want. And just when she thought she had figured out where she stood, he would do something like this, knocking her off balance yet again.

"Thank you," she said.

Edward opened his mouth to say something more, but loud squawk and a flutter of red feathers interrupted. The parrot that had apparently been hiding in the rafters landed on Edward's shoulder with a loud, "Bloody hell!"

Bella's mouth dropped open. "That man forgot his parrot!"

"Apparently so," Edward said distastefully, waving a hand toward the bird. "Go on now!" he hissed. The parrot flapped his wings a bit but ignored him.

"I think it likes you." Bella grinned, more than a little amused by Edward's discomfort.

"Well, I don't like him," he muttered. "Can you get it off me?"

Bella laughed. "What? Are you afraid of a little bird?"

"I simply don't want to hurt it." He tried again unsuccessfully to shoo it away.

"Well, I think we should keep it," Bella said, snagging a half-eaten roll from an abandoned plate and offering it to the parrot. It blinked at her curiously for a moment, then bent to peck at the bread.

"We're not keeping it."

"Why not? Every pirate ship needs a parrot."

"Where on earth did you get such a ridiculous notion?"

Bella shrugged. "Everybody knows that." She smiled at the parrot. "What's your name, pretty bird?"

The parrot squawked. "Pretty bird! Pretty bird!"

Edward glared. "It doesn't need a name. It's not a pet, and we're not keeping it." He shook his shoulder to dislodge the bird, but it just looked at him with steady black eyes. "Bloody hell," he muttered.

"New friend, Edward?" Rosalie appeared at the table, fully dressed this time in a yellow cotton gown, her hair artfully arranged on her head. She motioned to Emmett, who dragged another table over, then took a seat next to Bella. "Sorry to keep you waiting," she said, tipping her head toward Edward. "You know how these boys are." She winked and Bella flushed.

"I don't...I mean...we're not..."

Rosalie looked from her to Edward and back again. "No? But I thought for certain-" She waved a hand. "Never mind. So, tell me, Edward, when did you become such a bird enthusiast?"

"I'm not," he said grumpily, slouching forward on the table. "Damned thing won't go away."

"Go away!" the parrot echoed.

"Exactly!" Edward shouted. The bird whistled and set to preening its feathers.

Jasper returned and sat down next to Emmett, smiling when Jessica came by with another round of ale. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of the parrot, and he shot a questioning glance at Bella.

"I'm thinking of calling him Blackbeard," she said.

"Absolutely not!" Edward snapped.

"Hmmm." Jasper rubbed his chin. "How about Captain Kidd?"

"Oh, I like that," Rosalie said.

"We're not naming the bird after a bloody pirate!" Edward rubbed his hands over his face, and the bird squawked, "Bloody pirate!"

"Anne Bonny?" Emmett offered. At everyone's curious looks, he added, "It might be a girl, and she's the only girl pirate I know of."

"There are women pirates?" Bella asked, eyes wide.

"Aye," Edward muttered. "One or two."

Bella considered that for a long moment, looking into her mug thoughtfully.

The name debate continued until the front door of the tavern opened, and a boyish-faced man with a burlap sack over his shoulder walked in.

Rosalie stiffened. "That's Riley," she said, effectively cutting off all parrot talk for the moment. He spotted her and nodded slightly, making his way across the room.

She stood as the boy approached, instructing Jessica not to disturb them before leading the group down the hallway past the kitchen to a storage room in the back of the tavern. The boy glanced over his shoulder before following them into the room, hovering inside the doorway.

"This 'im?" he asked, jerking his head toward Edward.

Rosalie nodded. "Do you have the box?"

Riley checked over his shoulder again before reaching into the bag and pulling out a small wooden box. He placed it on a barrel, both hands resting on the top as his fingers tapped nervously.

"If it's all the same to ye," he said. "I'll take my coin and be going."

"If it's all the same to _you_," Edward replied, "I'll be seeing the box before you see any coin."

Riley hesitated only a moment before he sighed heavily, shoving a hand through his messy hair and sliding the box toward him. Edward picked it up, examining it carefully. It was smaller than he'd expected – about the length and breadth of his hand and as thick as it was wide – and expertly carved out of several different types of wood. The pieces fit together tightly, smooth and polished in an intricate mosaic, with no apparent lid – no hinges or latches of any kind.

"How do you open it?" Edward asked.

Riley shrugged, leaning against the wall. "Dunno. Bloke I got it from said it was some kind of puzzle box, but he didn't know how to open it either."

"And what bloke was that?"

Riley's gaze hardened. "Didn't get to be the man who can get things by tellin' everyone _how_ I get those things." He glanced at Rosalie. "Can I go now?"

She and Edward exchanged a significant look, and Edward reached into his pocket, withdrawing a pouch of coins and tossing it to Riley. The boy shook it once, listening to the tinkle with a satisfied smile before tucking it into his coat pocket and leaving the room with a curt nod.

Edward studied the box a bit longer, tapping it thoughtfully, before passing it around to the others.

"I suggest a rock," Emmett suggested. "Just smash the damned thing."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Let me see it," she said. With a shrug, he handed her the box, and she slid her fingers over the polished surface.

"I've seen a box like this before," she murmured, half to herself, as she prodded the box in various places. "It's just a matter of finding the right spot-" She pressed a rectangular section and it slid out easily. "Ha!" she shouted as the others gathered close, eager to get a peek. She pried at another piece that flipped up, revealing a rectangular section that pivoted on an axis, locking into place with a quiet snick. After that, it was a matter of sliding sections out, then back again – until the box split in two in Bella's hands, revealing a shallow drawer in the bottom.

Bella grinned. "I did it!"

"Well done, Smith," Edward said, patting her on the shoulder and reaching into the drawer to pull out a folded-up piece of paper.

"Is that it?" Jasper asked, as Edward carefully unfolded it.

"Aye," Edward breathed. He looked up, waving them back. "Let me put it on the table."

They gathered around as he smoothed the creases on the map, frowning at the torn edge.

"It doesn't say much," Jasper noted, running a finger along the edge of a land mass. "This could be any place."

"An island, obviously," Emmett added, "but which one?"

Edward grunted noncommittally. "This area looks familiar," he replied, pointing to another spot. "I'm not certain, though."

"Edward," Bella interrupted. "Do you see that? At the bottom?" She pointed to a small drawing some distance off the coast of whatever island they were looking at. "Is that what I think it is?"

Edward picked up the map, scrutinizing the sketch more closely. It wasn't complete – part was torn off with the other half of the map – but there was enough for him to recognize the shape of a misshapen disk with two holes, one large, one smaller. Along the edge of the disk, some numbers: _43, 14, 6._

"Bloody hell," Edward murmured.

"What is it?" Rosalie asked.

"The coin."

"What coin?"

"It doesn't matter," Edward hastily folded the map. "We need to get back to the ship. I think-"

A low laugh cut Edward off mid-sentence, and as one, the group turned toward the doorway leading to the tavern. A dark-haired man dressed all in black leaned against the jamb, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Edward slid the map into his pocket and reached for his sword. "Marcus," he hissed.

"Ah ah ah," Marcus said, waving a finger back and forth tauntingly and nodding toward the back door. It swung open, and Jacob came through, flanked by two of Aro's men, a pistol pointed at his head. Blood dripped from a cut on his cheek, and he winced as they shoved him into the room.

"I'm sorry," he said, spitting blood onto the floor. "Didn't see them coming until it was too late."

Marcus pushed away from the door and stepped toward them. "Yes, your little friend here has good instincts. Thought he was onto us for a while there. Unfortunately, he was no match for all of my men." At Edward's glare, he added, "I have more outside, in case you should get an itch to fight your way out of this."

"How did you find us?" Edward asked.

"You can't expect me to give away all our secrets, can you?"

"Where is Aro?"

Marcus leered. "Oh, he'll find you when the time is right, _Eddie_. I think you're beginning to realize that he's always one step ahead of you." He pulled out a pistol and pointed it at Bella's chest. "Sorry about this, miss. It's nothing personal." He turned back to Edward. "I'll be having that map, now." With a cheerful smile, he added, "And I'd thank you all to have a seat. You're going to be here for a while."

~0~

Bella twisted her wrists, trying to no avail to loosen the ropes tight around them. The scarf tied across her mouth chafed at her skin, and as she looked to her left, she could see Edward dealing with the same situation.

Marcus had bound and gagged them all, then made them sit back-to-back in a circle and tied all of their wrists together. He'd smacked the map against his palm and slipped it in his pocket with a grin.

"You're lucky Aro said not to touch you...yet," he'd said, leaning over the captain. "Until we meet again, _Eddie_." With that, he and his men had left the room, securing both doors and leaving Edward fuming.

They were all pretty angry. But Bella had never seen Edward so furious. And that was saying a lot.

The room was quiet except for the shuffling of clothing as they fought to free themselves, and the occasional grunt muffled by the gags. Bella was surprised that he'd just tied them up and left, half expecting him to kill them all.

More games, she supposed. She was beginning to understand that Aro really liked his games.

The bastard.

The door to the main room opened, and they turned as one, all shouting through their gags.

"Miss Rosalie? I know you said not to interrupt, but there's a man-" Jessica stopped in the doorway, eyes wide. "Good lord!"

Rosalie grunted something, eyes flashing, and Jessica hurried into the room and removed her gag.

"Cut us loose," Rosalie ordered. "Hurry."

Jessica grabbed the dagger from Jasper's belt and sliced through the ropes. Within minutes, they were free, rubbing their wrists as they vowed revenge. Edward stalked through the tavern, the others following close behind.

"I'm sorry, Edward," Rosalie said, lingering in the doorway.

"It's not your fault," he said grimly. "Thank you for your aid."

She nodded, and Emmett pulled her into a quick but passionate kiss before whispering a goodbye. She stood on the porch, watching as they hurried back toward the ship.

Edward turned to Emmett. "You and Black go through the town. Get all the men back to the ship. Now."

He nodded grimly, the two men rushing down the street.

"What are we going to do?" Bella asked as they headed toward the path to the cove. "Go after the map?"

"No. Aro's already well under way, I'm sure."

"What then?"

"I remember now why that section of the map looked familiar," he said, shoving aside some brush as they all but ran down the path. "I know where he's heading."

"You do?" Jasper asked. Edward nodded curtly.

Bella's stomach flipped with a combination of anxiety and excitement. "Are we going to stop him?"

Edward's lips quirked. "No, we're not going to stop him," he said. "But we are going to beat him."

As they emerged from the trees, a squawk and a flurry of red feathers burst from the branches overhead, and the parrot landed heavily on Edward's shoulder.

"Bloody hell!" he shouted, swatting at the bird.

It flapped, hovering above his head for a moment before coming to rest on his other shoulder and screeching, "Bloody hell! Bloody hell!"

Despite their current situation, Bella laughed. "You're a bad influence on that bird," she said. Edward just glared at her and turned to stalk toward the ship.

The parrot squawked, "Pretty bird!"

"How about Barbarossa?" Jasper offered as they hurried after Edward. "I think that's an excellent name for a parrot."

"We're not naming the bloody parrot!" Edward shouted.

The bird just repeated, "Barbarossa! Barbarossa!" for the next half an hour as they set sail after Aro.

The crew took that as an approval.

~0~

Commodore James Hunter was not a happy man. He stood at the bow of the _Intrepid_, glaring unseeingly at the crashing waves, the wind forcing him to hold his hat in his fist, strands of blond hair escaping his queue to flutter about his face. He blew them aside with annoyance.

Blasted Cullen had outsmarted him yet again.

He'd followed the dinghy, of course, and had been close enough when it landed to see the face of the man wearing the captain's hat and coat through his spyglass.

Close enough to see the man had two good eyes.

"Damn him," the commodore muttered, recalling the cocky salute the man had offered before disappearing into the undergrowth. Hunter had had no doubt he would have been long gone by the time he could get ashore and make chase.

Not that he cared to. No, the man was a lackey, nothing more. Cullen was the prize.

"Sir?" Lieutenant Cameron stepped tentatively to his side, hat in hand.

"Any word?" Hunter asked gruffly.

Cameron cleared his throat. "Not of Cullen, no, Sir. Sorry. But we have received a report that the _Abaddon's Curse _has left Hispaniola, apparently bound for Tortuga."

Hunter grunted, shrugging his shoulders. "Hardly news, Cameron. It's a pirate port." Tortuga was an aggravation to the Crown. Although he knew pirates frequented the island, it was nearly impossible to catch them there. He suspected the locals aided in their escape, somehow able to spot Crown ships approaching in time to alert the criminals. They also were notoriously close-lipped, pleading ignorance when questioned, or simply disappearing into the woodwork until Hunter or his contemporaries left the island.

He'd come to accept that it was a safe haven for Cullen and his kind, and generally not worth the effort.

"That's not all, Sir," Cameron added, pulling the commodore from his thoughts. "The _Enchanted Lady_ is apparently sailing with them."

Hunter turned to him in surprise. "Renard? Are you certain?"

"They were seen in close company." No one would sail close to the _Curse_ unless they were allied somehow. It was only asking to be boarded.

"Why would he sail with Aro?" Hunter mused. He hadn't spoken with the _Lady's_ captain since he'd rescued him after Cullen's attack, but was under the impression that Renard was trying to establish a legitimate trade.

Perhaps he was wrong.

Abruptly, Hunter turned to pace across the deck, Cameron at his heels. "So Aro and Renard are both heading to Tortuga. Together for some reason." There was no love lost for Cullen when it came to Laurent Renard. And it was common knowledge that Cullen and Aro had a longtime feud. Could the two have joined forces?

"Cullen was sailing south as well," he muttered, half to himself. Could the captain of the _Arrow_ have the same destination in mind? And if so, why? He supposed it could all be coincidence. They all frequented the same waters but generally tried to avoid each other unless...

Unless they were planning an assault.

But, Hunter wondered, who was doing the planning? Aro? Cullen?

"Sir?" Cameron shifted on his feet, watching his commanding officer warily. "Do you have orders?"

Hunter rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. If Aro and Cullen were bound to finally battle each other, it could work in his favor. He'd long ago tired of the heat and crudeness of the islands, longing to return to the civility of England. He'd clung to the idea of capturing Cullen to ensure a promotion – perhaps a command in Port Royal or Antigua, or even on the mainland, away from ships and hardtack and bloody goddamned pirates.

But to remove them _both _at one fell swoop? Such a thing had never before seemed possible. If Aro were to remove Cullen – or vice versa – and Hunter was nearby, ready with chains for the survivors?

Well, it could mean far more than a promotion. It could mean everything – gold, lands, perhaps even a title.

And leaving these bloody islands to return to London a hero.

"Sir?" Cameron repeated. Hunter smiled, visions of luxury still dancing in his head.

"Set sail for Tortuga immediately," he said. "But lower the Crown colors, and inform the men to don civilian garb. Stealth is the key, Cameron. I don't want them to see us coming."

"Aye, Sir."

"Double the watch. I want everyone on the lookout for those three ships. I want to know what is happening, but I can't emphasize enough that I do _not_ want to be noticed."

Cameron saluted and turned on his heel to follow his orders. Hunter headed for his quarters to change out of his uniform into the drab clothes of an ordinary man.

An ordinary man he had no intention of ever being again.

No, Commodore Hunter would have to be very careful in this little game, but if he was right, once Aro and Cullen had destroyed each other, he would be the one to reap the rewards.

_Lord James Hunter. _

He smiled.

Yes, he definitely liked the sound of that.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I will be posting the **Cutlass** outtake I wrote for Fandom 4 No Kids Hungry on July 22nd. It will post as a separate story, so be sure and put me on author alert if you'd like an alert when it posts.

I'm hosting a giveaway in conjunction with my original fiction novel. **The Gimme MORE Giveaway** runs through July 15th, and there are lots of prizes and lots of chances to win. Visit my OF website for more info: TMFranklin (with a dot and a com! LoL!)

Teaser for Cutlass Ch. 21 will be up on The Fictionators on Monday – next update on Tuesday.

Thanks for reading!


	21. Chapter 21: Ambush

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **As always, thanks to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

* * *

><p><em><strong>After much desperate searching, I have found the place to secure my treasure. It is in need, however, of measures beyond the natural defenses of the area. <strong>_

_**I have devised a complex plan that will require the best tradesmen the area has to offer. It will be an expensive undertaking to be sure. But fortunately for me, money is no longer an insurmountable obstacle.**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 17 November, 1666**_

**Chapter 21: Ambush**

"No, that's not right," Bella insisted, pointing to the squiggly black line Edward had just drawn on the sheet of parchment. "This part curved down – or south – if this is north, that is."

Edward frowned, then dipped the quill in ink and scratched out the line he'd just drawn, following Bella's instructions. "Like this?"

Bella hummed, watching him continue to sketch a replica of the half of the map Marcus had stolen. Emmett, Jasper, and Jacob completed the circle crowded around the captain's desk, all scrutinizing the work with a critical eye.

"Don't forget the coin," Bella said once he sat back, the main part of the map complete. He nodded, sketching it in the same location and adding the mysterious numbers along the edge.

"How do you know it's a coin?" Jacob asked.

Bella reached for her necklace, ready to explain. "Because-"

"We don't," Edward said flatly, flashing a quick warning look at Bella. "Looked a bit like a coin, but it could be anything, really."

Bella took the hint, her hand returning to her side without another word. Edward studied the map for a moment, then looked up at Jacob carefully.

"You know these waters well," he said. "What do you make of this?" He punched his finger at a small group of circles toward the edge of the map.

Jacob's eyes narrowed on the drawing. "I'm not certain."

"No?" Edward produced another sheet of parchment, lining it up with the edge of the map. Quickly, he added another few larger shapes. "How about now?"

Jacob stared at it blankly for a moment and inhaled sharply. "_The Dogs_."

"Aye," Edward agreed, once again pointing at the small group of islands. "I thought I recognized the configuration. So if these are _The Dogs_, then this..." His finger trailed to the coast of a larger island to the east.

"_Virgin Gorda_."

"Aye."

Bella watched the interaction with interest. "Are you saying you know what these are? I mean, you know _where_ these are?"

Edward nodded and turned to Jasper. "Set sail for _Virgin Gorda_, but keep a weather eye open for Aro. I don't want him to know we're coming."

The first mate nodded and left the room, followed quickly by Emmett and Jacob. Edward bent over the map again, studying the drawing of the coin. Bella took a seat across the desk from him and opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.

"I don't want anyone else to know about the coin," he said. "Not yet. Not until it's absolutely necessary." He leaned back in his chair and rested his chin in his palm. "Somebody led Aro to us at the _Wild Rose_, and I fear it would have to be somebody on this ship. The coin is our only advantage over Aro right now. He doesn't know we have it, and I aim to keep it that way."

Bella considered that. "Surely you don't suspect Jasper?"

"No. Of course not. But I still think it wise to keep the coin between us for now."

Bella wasn't sure if she should feel flattered by Edward's trust or wonder if he was trying to test her in some way. If Aro _did_ learn of the coin, after all, the circle of blame would be exceedingly small. In other words, her.

Edward seemed to read her mind. "I don't suspect you either, Smith."

Bella blushed slightly. "Of course not. No reason to, after all."

"Just thought you should know." His lips quirked a bit. "Come here."

"I am here."

"No," Edward said, pushing his chair back and gesturing to his lap. "Come _here._"

Bella's eyes narrowed. "I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Your lap has been a bit busy lately. I wouldn't wish to overtax it."

Edward's brows rose. "I told you. Jessica is only a friend."

"A friend who sits on your lap," Bella snapped, feeling a bit like a nagging fishwife, but unable to help herself. Edward, for his part, seemed to find her state rather amusing, something that only served to irritate her more.

"It's not funny," she muttered.

"Smith..."

"Don't call me that!"

"Bella," he began again. "You're too far away for this conversation. Come here. _Please_."

With an exasperated huff, Bella got to her feet and circled the desk. She refused to sit on his lap, however, and simply leaned back against the desk next to Edward, eyes focused on the floor. He reached out and took her hand in both of his.

"Look at me."

Slowly, stubbornly, she raised her gaze, her chin jutting out slightly. Edward smiled.

"It's not funny," she grumbled again.

"It is," he protested. "It's exceedingly funny that you could think Jessica could be any kind of rival for my affections."

"You _seemed_ pretty affectionate."

"Habit, nothing else," he replied. "Shoving her off my lap would have been out of character and drawn undue attention."

Bella almost smiled at the picture of Edward doing just that, but the urge passed quickly.

"Did you...have you..." She reddened and tried to pull her hand free, but Edward held it fast.

"What?" he asked, searching her face. "You mean...me? With...Jessica?"

"Never mind," Bella said abruptly. "I don't think I want to know."

"There's nothing to know," he said. "Nothing recently, at least." When Bella blushed and looked away, he rubbed his thumb against her wrist gently. "I am an imperfect man, Bella. I have a past."

"I know that."

"But I haven't been with Jessica in that way in years," he added. "With _anyone_ in months...long before I met you."

"It's none of my business."

"It _is,_" he said, and when he tugged on her arm this time, she allowed him to pull her into his lap. "I've never…been with a lady before. This is new to me."

She met his gaze, finally, a small smile lifting her lips. "It's new to me as well."

He reached up to touch her cheek. "I can't offer you much, but I can promise to be true for as long as this lasts."

It was less than she wanted, but more than she expected. Bella had no illusions of fairy tale endings and happily ever afters with Edward Cullen. Still, a part of her mourned that this would be a short-lived tryst, and one day just a magical memory she would relive on lonely evenings.

No, there would be no other for her. Of that Bella was certain. Who else could inflame and antagonize her so? Who else could stimulate such passion and exhilarating pleasure? She could fight it, of course, and try to retain some semblance of decorum and innocence. But why save herself for a husband she would never have, nor want? Bella had to admit that entertaining the thought was useless, if not utterly absurd.

Because she didn't want to fight it. Edward made her feel alive, her blood pumping hot and heavy through her veins like it never had before. Whether arguing with him about his stubborn views or blushing over his teasing or melting under his hot gaze and lingering touch, Bella couldn't resist how he made her feel. Perhaps it was selfish. Perhaps it was stupid. But she doubted she could stop herself even if she wanted to.

She would take what he offered, for as long as he offered it, and when it was over, hold the memory close to her heart.

He watched her intently, trying to read her thoughts through her expression, so she offered him a teasing smile. "All right then, Captain. But that means no more wenches on your lap – or anywhere else on your person for that matter." She leaned down saucily, her lips brushing the corner of his mouth. "I don't like to share." She felt his lips twitch under hers.

"Aye, Sir," he murmured.

"Sir?" Her lips swept across his swiftly to the other corner. "Surely you can do better than that."

"Mmmm..." He captured her mouth with a teasing nibble and caught her gasp in a searing kiss. "Better?" he asked.

Bella's heart pounded as she tried to catch enough breath to speak. "Much."

Edward grinned and was just about to kiss her again when Bella pressed a hand against his chest, stilling him. Her eyes took on an unfocused glaze, and she blinked hard a few times.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Just...wait..." Something nagged at the edge of Bella's thoughts, and she turned on his lap to reach for the map. "I was just thinking about these numbers."

Edward lips brushed against the nape of her neck. "Really? I must be losing my touch."

Bella ignored him, tracing a finger over the numbers: _43, 14, 6. _

"All of the other relics are engraved with a Scripture passage," she said. "The cutlass has the Genesis verse. The locket's passage is from Revelation. From the sketches, we know the cup is engraved with a verse from the Psalms."

Edward straightened, abandoning seduction for the moment. "But not the coin."

Bella smiled. "Not the coin."

"Unless..." Edward's gaze drifted to the numbers on the map. "We need a Bible." He shifted, and Bella quickly got up from his lap. He crossed the room to the large chest and opened it, digging through it and tossing contents here and there.

"You actually have a Bible in there?" Bella asked wryly.

"I am a man of many interests, Smith," he muttered in response, holding up a worn volume with a victorious smile. He placed it on the desk, and they huddled around it.

"It can't be page numbers," Bella thought out loud. "It must be book, chapter, verse?" She looked up at Edward questioningly, and he nodded in response.

"The forty-third book is... " Edward flipped through the Bible, counting under his breath. "The Gospel of St. John."

"Go to chapter fourteen, verse six," Bella said, gripping his arm in excitement.

"I'm trying, Smith. Calm yourself." He turned to the page, reading it in silence.

Bella rolled her eyes and read it out loud. "'Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth and the life. No one cometh unto the Father, but by Me.'" She read it again and frowned. "So, what on earth does that mean?"

Edward shoved the Bible away. "I've absolutely no idea. I swear if Mellick wasn't dead already I'd have him hung from the yard arm!"

Bella snorted. "Well, I might fight you for that honor, but I've no doubt it means something. We just have to figure out what." She had no doubt they'd correctly interpreted the numbers and felt no little pride at the fact. "We're getting close, Edward. I can feel it."

Despite his frustration, Edward had to smile. "Aye, Smith. I do believe you're right."

~0~

"Come about! Steady as she goes!" As the crew rushed to obey his orders, Edward peered at the island through his spyglass, the shape of the _Abaddon's Curse_ easily recognizable near the shore of Virgin Gorda, even from the distance. The _Arrow_ stuck close to the coastline, and Edward hoped his evasive maneuvers were sufficient. Aro, after all, would not expect him, and was most likely focused on the task at hand. In short, following the instructions on the map.

With practiced precision, the crew of the _Arrow _brought the ship around the far side of Virgin Gorda, rounding Moskito Island and dropping anchor in Saddle Bay, a peninsula separating them from where the _Curse _was anchored. Once the ship was secure, Edward called the crew to him, a grim look on his face.

"Today, we retrieve what is ours," he said, meeting the intent gaze of the crew men surrounding him. "Today, we finally confront that bastard Aro and show him what the crew of the _Arrow _is made of."

Knowing better than to let out a cheer, the men just nodded, making grumbling noises of assent. Bella stood off to the side, watching with a slight smile on her face. With a loud squawk, the parrot Barbarossa descended from the mizzen mast, landing on Edward's shoulder with a flutter of wings. Edward ignored the bird.

"Our goal is the map," he said. "Stealth is the key. Keep to the shadows and wait for my orders." The men nodded and Edward grinned. "To the sea!" he commanded, and with a muffled shout, the men rushed to the rope ladder, climbing down into the water with quick precision.

Bella appeared at his side, offering a bit of cracker to Barbarossa. "He seems to be growing on you," she said.

Edward's gaze narrowed. "I don't suppose I can convince you to stay on the ship?" When she just smiled in response, he sighed. "I thought not. Well, at least stay close, all right?"

"Of course," she said loftily. "Don't worry, Edward. I'll guard your flank."

He smirked as they made their way to the rope ladder. "You have an unhealthy obsession with my flank."

"It is a nice flank."

Edward laughed as they climbed over the gunwale and down the rope ladder to the water. The parrot abandoned him, taking to the air as he swam to shore alongside Bella and his men.

They crossed the peninsula in silence, the only sound the soft crunch and swish of sand under their wet boots. Edward could spot Jasper and McCarty to his right, keeping the men quiet and on task. Black stuck close to his flank, with Newton and Crowley to his left. At the sound of voices, they took cover in the underbrush, Edward and Bella ducking behind a cluster of trees. His jaw tightened when he spotted Aro talking with Marcus, and he felt Bella touch his elbow gently. He turned to see her watching him, eyes wide, and he nodded to reassure her he knew what he was doing.

He hoped he knew what he was doing.

His heart pounded as he assessed Aro's forces - five, no, six men in addition to the captain and Marcus. He spotted a few more standing guard on the far side of the clearing, obviously expecting any infiltrators to come from the bay where the _Curse _was anchored.

Edward smiled. This was going to be easier than he thought. He nodded at Jasper and saw his first mate take a group of men around to the other side of the clearing. Crowley did the same in the opposite direction. They had Aro's boarding party outnumbered more than two to one, and in moments would have them surrounded. Finally, he'd gotten a leg up on the bastard.

He counted silently to himself, allowing his men time to get into position and slid his flintlocks from his belt, jerking his head for Bella to stay behind him. She rolled her eyes at him – of course – and he fixed her with a steely glare until she relented with a single nod. She moved closer, brushing against his back as she peered around his arm to watch the goings-on in the clearing.

"Ready?" he whispered. He felt her nod against his shoulder and glanced down to see her gripping a dagger in one hand, ready to draw her sword with the other. He took a deep breath to shout the order to attack.

With a squawk and a flurry of feathers, Barbarossa descended from the treetops into the clearing, screaming "Bloody pirate! Bloody pirate!" over and over again. He dove at Aro, knocking his hat from his head, then swooped away into a high branch.

"One-Eyed Eddie! One-Eyed Eddie!" the parrot squawked, flapping its wings. As one, Aro's men drew their swords, eyes darting toward the treeline.

Edward growled, moving quickly out from behind the tree as his men did the same. "Damned bird," he muttered. "So much for the advantage of surprise."

It didn't matter much, actually. The crew of the _Arrow_ emerged from the trees with pistols and swords drawn, and it only took a moment for Aro to see the futility of fighting. With a curt nod, he and his men dropped their swords. Aro grinned, though, crossing his arms over his chest as Marcus stood beside him.

"Well, well, well, Eddie," he drawled. "Nice of you to join us."

Edward's jaw tightened, and he motioned with his flintlock. "Give me the map. And the cup while you're at it."

"So rude!" Aro grinned at Marcus, who smirked in return. "Just because we're pirates, _Eddie_, doesn't mean we can't act as civilized individuals. It's been so long. How are you? How's the family?"

"The map. And the cup." Edward's men took a step forward, and Aro held up his hands defensively.

"No need to get pushy," he said. "Just trying to make polite conversation. The map, you say?"

"And the cup while you're at it."

At this, Barbarossa descended from the trees and landed on Edward's shoulder with a loud, "The cup! The cup!"

Edward ignored him, his icy glare focused only on Aro.

The captain of the _Curse_, however, seemed unconcerned. "Well, Eddie, I don't think that will be possible. You see, the cup and map are mine. And soon, the cutlass will be as well."

Edward snorted. "And how do you plan to accomplish that? In case you haven't noticed, my men have you surrounded."

"Oh, I think you have that wrong." Aro's smile fell, his shoulders squared, and his black eyes took on a flinty quality. "You see, Eddie, it's you who are surrounded."

And with that, a group of men appeared, stepping out of the trees with their weapons drawn. Edward felt the press of a flintlock into his back and jerked suddenly.

"Now, now, no sudden movements," a heavily accented voice whispered into his ear. "Wouldn't want to shoot you accidentally, after all. Much more fun to do it on purpose."

Edward let out a defeated breath. He recognized that voice.

"Renard," he muttered.

"One and the same." The pistol poked harshly into his back. "Drop your weapon."

He thought about refusing - thought about trying to fight - but when one of Laurent's crew men stepped forward with an arm around Bella's throat and a pistol at her temple, all the fight went out of him. They were outnumbered again. Aro had won.

So he dropped his pistols and, at Laurent's direction, unbuckled his sword belt, allowing it to fall to the sand as well. His men followed suit, then were herded into a cluster surrounded by Renard's men as Aro's retrieved their weapons.

"Captain Renard has proven to be a valuable ally," Aro said, standing in front of Edward with his sword swinging lightly from his fingertips. "Looks like you've made some enemies along the way, Eddie. Fortunately, it's been to my advantage."

"And mine," Laurent added, spitting at Edward's feet. "It appears your luck has run out, Cullen."

~0~

The journey back to the _Arrow_ was considerably more tense and less quiet. Aro's men laughed loudly, pleased with their success, and the crew of the _Lady_ seemed equally thrilled. Edward had no doubt that Aro had promised significant reward for his capture, let alone that of his ship, and he felt a bit sick thinking of the treasure in his hold which was sure to be liberated quickly – not to mention the cutlass and the locket.

And the _Arrow_. He gritted his teeth at the idea of Aro captaining his ship.

Laurent had left a half-dozen dinghies on the shore, and his and Aro's men rowed back to the ship while Edward's crew swam, flintlocks pointed at them the whole way. He could see the Frenchman watching him through the blur of water on his face, Aro gleefully grinning next to him, and considered trying to upend the dinghy, just to see what might happen.

He didn't, of course. Even if he survived, he had no doubt that Aro wouldn't hesitate to kill any of his men for such a transgression. At the moment, Edward's goals were simple.

1. Stay alive

2. Keep the crew alive

3. Find a way to escape

4. Stay alive

They treaded water off the stern while some of Laurent and Aro's men boarded the _Arrow_ first, then climbed the ropes and fell to their knees on the deck while they waited for the rest of the enemy to board. In the end, Edward's men were locked in the hold, but he and Bella accompanied Aro, Marcus, Laurent, and a couple of other crew men to Edward's quarters.

"It's only fitting," Aro said with a leering grin at Bella, "since you both have played such a part in bringing me the cutlass."

Bella reddened, and Edward could feel the rage radiating off her.

"You'll pay for this," she spat. "And for what you did to my father."

Aro laughed. "Perhaps," he admitted. "But you won't live to see it." He rubbed his chin, glancing at Edward.

"I fear I've tired of our little games, Eddie. So once I've gotten what I've come for, you and your little wench here will be taking a trip to the Locker."

"The Locker?" Bella stumbled slightly, and one of Aro's men grabbed her elbow, jerking her along.

"Davy Jones' Locker," Edward explained. "He plans to kill us."

~0~

Bella knew what the Locker was, of course, after living all this time on a pirate vessel. She just couldn't believe it had actually come to this, and she fought not to look as terrified as she was by Aro's words, although she feared she was failing miserably. She eyed the man walking next to her – tall and thick with a scruff of black whiskers and arms bulging with muscle – and knew escape was not an option, at least not at the moment.

Things didn't look good. The crew was locked in the hold, stripped of weapons and under guard. Even though not all of Aro's and Laurent's men had come on board, they were the only ones armed, so they clearly had the advantage. Still, if there was one thing Bella had learned during her time on the _Arrow_ – one thing that Edward had taught her – it was to always be on the lookout for an opportunity. They just had to be patient and stay alive, and when the chance presented itself, they would find a way to escape.

After killing Aro, of course. Bella found she craved the idea, even though she still doubted she could do the deed herself. The man was pure evil and deserved to die, and she was certain no one would mourn his passing. In fact, she was relatively sure many would celebrate.

So she bit her tongue and kept her eyes open as Aro entered Edward's quarters, Laurent and Marcus following behind him closely. The two other crew men stood outside the door, weapons at the ready and she shared a look with Edward before they entered as well, the door closing quietly behind them.

"Have a seat," Aro said, setting a large oilskin bag on Edward's desk and indicating the two chairs in front of it with a wave of his hand. Once they were seated, Marcus standing behind them with his flintlock at the ready, Aro turned to retrieve the cutlass from the shelf behind the desk. He smiled, drawing it from the sheath and admiring the gleaming blade.

"Well, it's been a bit of trouble, but well worth the effort in the end," he said, whipping the sword through the air and making Bella jump. He grinned at her and sheathed the cutlass. "This makes the second time I've had to steal it, but at least it will be the last."

"You bastard," she snapped. "You could have just taken it. Why did you have to kill him?"

Aro raised a brow. "Well now, lass, I'm afraid that was your father's fault. I intended to leave him alive, but he just wouldn't let things go."

Bella's eyes filled with hot tears of fury, and she blinked them back desperately.

Aro didn't seem to notice. "He did seem rather partial to you, though, if that's any consolation."

"Don't you talk about him!" She felt a squeeze and looked down in surprise to find Edward holding her hand. She took a deep breath, trying to rein in her anger. It wouldn't do any of them any good, and she needed to think clearly.

"Enough of this," Aro said, setting the sword on the desk. "Tie them up and help me look for the chest."

Without another word, Marcus went to the door and returned with a length of rope from one of the guards. He directed Bella and Edward to sit on the floor and quickly tied their wrists and ankles together, slicing through the rope with deadly precision. He manhandled Bella around – ignoring Edward's warning growl – until they were back to back, then tied their bound wrists together.

Meanwhile, Laurent and Aro went through Edward's trunk, tossing items aside and pocketing anything of value. Laurent smashed the table, smiling gleefully at Edward as he did it, and upended the chess board, purposely taking a few of the pieces. Marcus pulled out the desk drawers, methodically dumping the contents on the floor.

"It's not here," Laurent said once they'd reached the bottom of the trunk, just as Marcus reached the locked desk drawer.

"Ah," Aro said, eyes flashing as he noticed Edward's jaw twitch. He crossed to the desk, pulling a dagger from his belt to pry open the lock. "Let's just see what we have here, shall we?" With a low click, the drawer opened, and Aro laughed, pulling out the chest and Mellick's journal.

"That's it," Laurent confirmed. "That's the one he took from my ship."

Aro seemed a bit irritated, like he hardly needed the confirmation, but said nothing and just opened the chest. It only took a few minutes with the journal to confirm the locket was the key.

"Now," he said, gathering up the coins in the chest. "Which of these is the coin?" He held his open palm out to Edward, who only glared at him in response. "No matter," he said with a shrug. "I'll just take them all. Now that I have everything I need, the treasure will be mine in short order." He gathered the items, sliding them carefully into the oilskin bag, along with the cutlass, the sheathed blade sticking out a few inches once he pulled the drawstring closed.

"Time to go ashore," he said to Marcus.

"What of them?"

Aro waved a hand dismissively. "Leave them here. Guards at the door."

There was no mistaking the disappointment on Marcus' face. "But I thought-"

Aro stepped closer to Edward, looming over him silently until he looked up. "I want them alive when I find the gold," he said, voice low and dangerous. "You'll see me win, _Eddie_, and then you'll die." With that, he turned to leave the room, Marcus and Laurent following closely behind him. Bella heard him relay quiet orders to the men outside the door, then the disappearing footsteps as they headed toward the deck. She shifted, pulling against the ropes.

"There's no point," Edward said quietly. "They're tight. If we can get to the other side of the desk, maybe I can find something..."

"Edward-"

"They took all the weapons out of the trunk..."

"Edward-"

"Perhaps I can break a piece of pottery without raising an alarm..."

"Edward!" Bella hissed, yanking against his bound wrists.

"What?"

"Lay down." With that, she threw her weight to the side. Edward, surprised at the movement, fell with her with a slight _oof._

"What are you doing?" he asked as she wiggled around, arching backward slightly.

"I can't quite get it. Your fingers are longer. Can you reach my boot?"

She heard Edward laugh under his breath. "Bloody hell, Smith. You have your dirk, don't you?"

"Of course. It's always best to be prepared."

Edward stretched out his fingers, speaking through gritted teeth. "Almost...just a little bit more..."

Bella shifted, her muscles straining as she stretched her ankles toward Edward's questing fingers. She held her breath as she felt him fumble with the top of her boot, only exhaling when she felt the slide of him pulling the dirk free of the leather.

Within minutes, he had them cut loose and they stood, smiling at each other.

"Now what?" Bella asked.

"We need weapons."

They scoured the wreckage of the room in silence for a moment, then came together again near the door. Edward held a large chunk of the broken table. Bella clutched a half-empty rum jug.

Edward grinned. "That seems to be your weapon of choice lately."

Bella hefted the jug. "They're surprisingly durable."

Edward reached out with his free hand to grasp her around the waist, pulling her in for a hard kiss. "Ready, Smith?"

She nodded, a bit breathless, and they took positions on either side of the door. On Edward's signal, they both began to yell at the top of their lungs. It only took a moment before the door was thrown open, and Aro's two guards stormed into the room, coming to an abrupt stop at the sight of the ropes lying discarded on the floor.

It was the last thing they saw for a while.

The last thing they _heard_ was the loud crack of wood hitting bone and the smash of a rum jug against a rock hard skull.


	22. Chapter 22: The Big Switcheroo

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews, PMs and tweets about this story – they really mean a lot to me. Even if I'm not always able to reply, please know I do read and appreciate every review and comment.

As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Progress is quicker than I expected, yet slower than I'd hoped. Soon, I will be able to begin relocating the treasure to the new, more secure location. However, with every day, I dread what I fear I must do to protect it.<strong>_

_**Gold can purchase secrets, and I have been very careful that only a select few men know all of mine. But those few are a risk, and one that I must eventually deal with.**_

_**The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 12 January, 1667**_

**Chapter 21: The Big Switcheroo**

Edward had an idea.

He and Bella quickly tied up the unconscious guards, stuffing a couple of scarves into their mouths to keep them quiet. They relieved them of their weapons, and Edward tossed a pistol and sword to Bella, strapping the other sword around his hips and tucking three more flintlocks into the belt. Bella headed for the door, but Edward stopped to dig through the mess from the trunk.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He held up a large oilskin bag triumphantly. "Looks a bit like his, doesn't it?"

"Well, yes..."

Edward tossed a few items in the bag – a leather-bound book, a small box, some discarded clothing. He wrapped an empty tankard in a cloth and slipped it inside as well before drawing it closed and throwing it over his shoulder. He turned to Bella, who was watching him with a slight smirk.

"What about the cutlass?" she asked, obviously catching on to his plan.

Edward grinned. "Let's get the men first, then we'll deal with the cutlass."

They made their way down the dim hallway, weapons poised at the ready, but came across surprisingly few of Aro's men. Besides the two left behind to guard them, they found four on deck – dispatched easily with a few well-placed punches and a slam to the foremast – and two more wandering the hall leading to the hold. The men had liberated a couple of jugs of rum along the way and swayed on their feet when they came face to face with Edward and Bella.

Edward punched one in the nose while Bella kneed the other between the legs. They both crumpled to the floor, the jugs rolling away and leaving a crooked trail of rum behind.

"See?" Bella said as they stepped over the unconscious men. She picked up a jug to tuck under her arm. "Durable."

They made their way silently toward the hold, sliding close to the walls and peeking around corners. The sound of low voices brought them to a halt, and Edward carefully set the oilskin bag down before drawing his sword and signaling for Bella to do the same.

She just lifted the rum jug with raised eyebrows. Edward fought down a laugh and nodded instead. He edged around the corner, just enough to catch a glimpse of the two men guarding the hold. They both sat on upturned crates, passing a jug between them. Edward frowned. Aro's men obviously had no discipline whatsoever.

They were absorbed in a discussion of the merits of blondes versus brunettes and didn't hear when Edward and Bella tiptoed closer. They sprang to their feet, reaching for their swords, but Edward held his sword to the throat of one as Bella bashed the other in the head with a rum jug.

"I think you enjoy that a bit too much," he said wryly as the second guard collapsed onto the floor.

"It is rather satisfying," she replied, poking the man with the toe of her boot. "And there's much less blood."

Edward swapped his sword for a dagger, holding it to the guard's neck as he unlocked the door to the hold. Kicking it open with his foot, Edward called out to his men.

"All right ye lazy swabs, enough lying about. Time t' retake the ship and find the treasure, if ye' can be bothered!"

His men shouted in response, and he turned the guard over to McCarty.

"Where are our weapons?" Edward asked, towering over him menacingly as McCarty tightened a beefy arm around his neck. When the guard hesitated, he added, "Think carefully, man. Would ye rather deal with me, or Aro once he learned ye let us escape?"

His men were armed within ten minutes.

~0~

Once again, the crew of the _Black Arrow_ picked their way through the trees on the peninsula of Virgin Gorda, however this time they were under no illusions that Aro worked alone. Edward hoped to accomplish his goal without notice, if possible, but still the entire crew made the journey, though Edward hoped the manpower would prove unnecessary.

Well, not the entire crew, actually. A few had apparently escaped the ambush, including Newton and Black, and had yet to turn up.

As they neared the clearing, the men moved in practiced unity, circling the area without making a sound. The parrot, thank the heavens, had been secured back on the ship, ensuring there wouldn't be a repeat of the last attempt. Edward stepped forward, moving quickly from tree to tree as he searched for Aro.

He spotted him near a large rock, huddling over the journal with Marcus. The oilskin bag sat near the base of a tree a few feet away, the sheath of the cutlass glinting in the sunshine.

Edward heard a soft gasp over his left shoulder and turned to see that Bella had noticed the bag as well. He pressed a finger to his lips, and she smiled encouragingly.

With a steadying breath, Edward slid through the shadows, gaze darting from the bag back to Aro and Marcus. The rest of his men were nowhere to be found. Evidently, Aro wanted to keep the journal to himself and had sent them back to the ship, or at least to the beach. He signaled to Jasper to keep his eyes open. He'd been overconfident before and didn't want to make the same mistake again.

"_A coin to give sight_?" Aro said, slapping a hand against the open book as Edward froze in his tracks. "What the bloody hell does that mean?" Marcus, apparently, had no answer. They returned to the journal, Aro flipping pages quickly, and Edward quickened his pace as well, soon finding himself an arms breadth from Aro's oilskin bag.

"I don't understand the man's damned obsession with the Bible!" Aro shouted, slamming the journal shut and turning on his heel. Edward retreated abruptly, back against the tree as he forced himself to take quiet, shallow breaths. Bella was crouched behind a low bush, her wide brown eyes flickering from him to Aro and back again. Edward could hear him mumbling and finally held his breath altogether. Aro was mere feet away. Too quick a movement, and he was sure to see Edward. A shift of the wind and he could probably _smell _him. Edward closed his eye, counting his own heart beats.

_One...two..._

Aro picked up the bag, rummaging in it for a moment before pulling out the chest from the _Lady._ "Damned puzzles. Why can't the man just have a map with a bloody X on it like a normal person?"

_..three...four..._

He opened the chest and took out the handful of coins before dropping it back into the open bag.

_...five...six..._

Finally, he turned and stalked back over to Marcus, allowing Edward to draw a shaky breath. He opened his eye to find Bella watching him closely. He raised a questioning brow at her, and she nodded, indicating that Aro had his back turned. He turned to peer around the edge of the tree, gaze darting to the open bag and back to the two men.

"Laurent will be back soon," Marcus said. "You can't keep him distracted for long. He wants part of this treasure too."

Aro snorted as he examined the coins in his hand. "The man's a lapdog. He's proven his usefulness with Cullen, but I no longer need him."

Edward dropped to his knees, then to his belly. He shifted as his sword hilt dug into his stomach, sliding the sheath to his side quietly.

"How do you plan to deal with him?" Marcus asked. "He won't go quietly."

"He'll get his fair share of Cullen's booty, then I'll make it's clear our alliance is over."

Edward eyed Aro's oilskin bag as he carefully slid forward in the sand. He reached out with the other bag, gaze darting to Aro nervously, then set it down next to Aro's. Truly, they did look similar. He untied the drawstring a bit and adjusted the sword sheath poking out from the top. It was a good thing Aro hadn't put the cutlass in the bag hilt up or he would never be fooled by the substitute. Finding another sword with a sapphire in the hilt would have proven quite a challenge.

"Enough about Renard," Aro said, turning back to the journal. "Help me figure out this damned riddle."

With a steady hand, Edward reached for Aro's bag, sliding it slowly...carefully...toward him. The sound of oilskin against the soft sand seemed to blare in Edward's ears, although logic told him there was no way Aro could hear it from where he was. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, dripping down his nose and landing on the ground with a soft plop. He crawled backward, wincing at the rustle of brush from the movement, until he sat once again crouched behind the tree.

Bella grinned at him, and he smiled in return. Turning to his left, he spotted Jasper watching him from between two trees and nodded the order to retreat to the ship. The order was relayed with silent signals and the men moved as one, emerging onto the beach and finding the missing crew men waiting for them, swords drawn.

Edward eyed Jacob suspiciously. "And where have you been?"

He sheathed his sword. "Managed to get away when Laurent's men moved in and have been trying to avoid them ever since. Aro sent them back to the ships, and I found the others just a bit ago." He jerked his head toward Newton. "We were just on our way to rescue you, but it appears you're in no need of rescuing."

"Apparently not," Edward said flatly, still uncertain about whether he believed Black's story. There was no time, however, to debate it.

"Back to the ship," he ordered. "We'll keep two dinghies and sink the rest. No sense in making things easy for Aro and Laurent." The men grinned in response. "We need to get away from this island. It's only a matter of time before Aro realizes what we've done."

"What of the prisoners?" Jasper asked as they got into the dinghies and started rowing toward the ship. Newton sat next to him, pulling his oar in a steady rhythm. Bella studiously avoided his gaze, sitting close to Edward. He reached out to take her hand in reassurance.

"Keep them for now. We'll leave them on one of The Dogs perhaps, where they'll be out of the way."

Jasper laughed. "So we're headed to The Dogs, then?"

Edward eyed Jacob in the other dinghy, lowering his voice. "Aye. We'll be able to take cover there and see when Aro leaves Virgin Gorda."

Newton pulled his oar in steady rhythm with Jasper and spat into the water. "Then what?"

Edward grinned. "Then we find the treasure."

Newton's black smile lit up his face. "Aye. A fine plan, Captain."

"Tell me, Newton," he said, again glancing toward the other dinghy. "What do you think of Black?" Bella tensed next to him, but he just squeezed her fingers slightly.

"Black? What d'ye mean?"

"Just hit me as a bit odd that he'd disappear when Laurent's men showed up. Did you notice anything?"

Newton spat again and shrugged, the movement causing him to fall a bit out of rhythm on his oar. "Dunno, Cap'n. When the fight turned ugly, some of us scattered, thought it better to try and regroup and come back later." He paused, adjusting his rowing to fit Jasper's once again. "Didn't see Black, though. Not 'til about an hour ago."

Edward chewed on that for a moment. "So he could have been anywhere."

"I suppose. Although..." He glanced toward the other dinghy and swallowed.

"Although?" Edward prodded.

"It's probably nothing."

"What is?" Edward asked irritably. "Spit it out, man."

Newton leaned in slightly. "Now that you mention it, I 'ave seen him about the ship at odd times. On deck in the middle o' the night when he's not on duty, that kind o' thing."

"Perhaps he just couldn't sleep," Bella snapped, obviously not pleased with the direction of the conversation.

"Per'aps," Newton acquiesced with a leer in her direction. His eyes drifted to her open collar, and Bella shuddered.

"Watch yerself," Edward warned.

Newton grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, Cap'n. I'm just a man, after all. Can't blame me fer lookin'."

"I _can_. And I _will_."

Newton's face paled slightly, and he dropped his gaze. "Aye, Sir."

Edward sat back, contemplating what Newton had told him. He'd thought perhaps Laurent was the traitor Alice had warned him about, but in fact, he'd never trusted the bastard, and he was in no way close to Edward. But Black...

He glanced at the man again, who was grinning at Emmett as they tried to out-row each other.

Black was another thing altogether. Bella's defense of the man had started to chip away at Edward's distrust, but his disappearance and odd behavior certainly made him a prime suspect.

Bella squeezed his hand, and he turned to find her watching him with a worried look. It was obvious that she still trusted Jacob and considered him a friend. If Black was the traitor, she would not take it well.

Edward sighed heavily. There was nothing he could do about it at the moment. He had no proof, and Aro was the much greater threat.

So as his men carried out his orders, he watched Jacob Black carefully, looking for signs that he was right about him.

All the while hoping that he was wrong.

~0~

The moon was full, the ship silent as the Master Gunner made his way up to the deck, stepping nimbly around a discarded rum jug. The men had been celebrating their victory over Aro, and even the captain had indulged a bit, his wench close by and eventually sprawled on his lap. The captain kept a close watch on her, of course. The men were unrestrained at the best of times. Add some rum and ale to the mix, and any wench was a temptation, even the captain's.

Newton emerged into the fresh salt air, eyes scanning the deck with devastating purpose. He spotted Crowley near the bow and approached him with a relaxed stride.

Crowley nodded at him. "You here for the next watch?"

"Aye. Anything to report?"

Crowley shook his head, looking out over the water with a deep breath, then lifting a spyglass to his eye. "Nothing. No sign of the _Lady _or the_ Curse_."

"He must think Cap'n Cullen will be back. Waiting 'im out."

"Aye. Most likely." Crowley snapped the spyglass shut and handed it over with a yawn. "You need anything before I turn in?"

"No. Go ahead." He spat over the gunwale. "Quiet night. Everyone must be sleeping off the grog."

Crowley laughed. "Should be a sight when the sun comes up." With a rough pat on Newton's back, he headed belowdecks to his hammock.

Newton strolled around the deck idly, coming to a stop when he spotted Jacob Black looking out over the stern, a hand resting on the main boom. Newton gritted his teeth, approaching the man with a determined stride.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, spitting on the deck and rubbing at it with the toe of his boot.

Black jumped slightly, as if he'd been lost in thought. "Oh. Aye. Lot on my mind, I suppose."

Newton's eyes narrowed. "Oh?"

Black shrugged. "Just wondering what the captain's up to. And with Aro and Laurent on our stern, not to mention Hunter-"

"Cap'n can handle it."

"I'm sure he can." Black reached up to stretch his arms over his head. "Well, I suppose I'll turn in. Tomorrow's sure to come quickly."

"Aye. Best get some rack time."

Black nodded, heading belowdecks without another word. Newton watched him go, black eyes watchful and appraising. Cullen seemed suspicious of the new addition to the crew. It appeared the captain thought Black might not quite be what he seemed.

A slow smile lit his face at the thought, and he spat on the deck again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Black was proving to be a convenient distraction for Cullen, and one that Newton planned to take advantage of.

He continued his circuit of the deck, retrieving a lantern from the quarter deck and taking position at the bow once again when he confirmed he was alone. He opened the spyglass, peering toward Virgin Gorda. He saw nothing, but it didn't matter. He knew someone was watching.

Striking a match, he lit the lantern, watching with satisfaction as the flame grew and glowed.

Raising and lowering the lantern, he relayed his message. Twice. Then a third time. He extinguished the flame and raised the spyglass to his eye again, smiling when he saw the signal his message had been received.

Yes, Black was a happy accident. Because while Cullen was focused on him, he'd fail to see what was right under his nose.

And by the time he discovered it, it would be too late.

~0~

Bella opened her eyes as the first rays of sunshine drifted through the portholes in Edward's quarters. She was warm, even after kicking the blankets off her legs, but it only took a moment to remember why. Edward was pressed against her back, an arm wrapped tightly around her waist and his nose buried in the hair at her nape. Their legs tangled over the sheets, his rough and hairy, yet still pleasant against her skin.

She fought the urge to stretch, unwilling to wake him yet, and took a moment to enjoy the feel of his body against hers. He still wore his drawers, but his chest was bare against the thin fabric of her shift. They had both indulged in a bit of rum the night before and had fallen into bed too exhausted from the day's activities for more than a few soft kisses and gentle touches before they drifted off to sleep.

Edward had left firm orders that he not be disturbed unless Aro or Laurent were seen sailing away from Virgin Gorda. Since they'd had an uninterrupted night of sleep, Bella could only assume the bastards were waiting for Edward's inevitable return. She had no doubt they'd be disappointed. Edward, she'd come to realize, could be very patient when he chose to be.

"You're up early, Smith," he mumbled against her neck, his breath raising goose bumps along her skin.

"Did I wake you?"

He chuckled slightly, low and raspy in a way that sent a surge of heat straight through her. "You were thinking too loud again."

She shifted, rolling over to face him. "Well, _somebody_ has to."

He squeezed her side in what he'd discovered was a ticklish spot. "Cheeky, aren't you?" When she tried to roll away, he held her fast, pulling her close so he could kiss her. A soft brush of lips first, but then deeper, hotter, until Bella whimpered in his mouth, throwing a leg over his hip before she even realized what she was doing. Edward drew her closer, his hand sliding down her spine to curve over the fullness of her thigh, holding her firmly against him.

If someone had told Bella a month ago that she would be lying in a pirate's bed, nearly naked, she would have been too shocked to laugh. It was ridiculous, scandalous, but Bella no longer cared about propriety. Since Edward had brought her to that incredible release, she found all she could think about was that she wanted it again. And again. To be close to him, kissing him, touching him...to climb that peak with him and fall over into that inexplicable pleasure. Well, perhaps it made her a shameful sinner, but Bella couldn't say she cared. Especially when Edward was kissing her like that – all hot and wet, alternating between licking into her mouth and sucking lightly on her tongue until her whole body quivered.

Edward pulled away abruptly, a bit breathless, and Bella chased after his mouth with her own. He groaned, giving in for a moment, but then pressed her down against the mattress, holding himself above her with a determined look.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Bella...I..." He rolled away and sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from her.

"Edward?" She reached out to run her fingers down his spine. He shivered at the touch and sighed heavily.

"I can't be the one to take your innocence," he said finally.

"My innocence?" Bella got up onto her knees, moving to his side. "Isn't that my decision?"

He refused to look at her, gaze focused on the floor. "You deserve more-"

"I _said _isn't that my decision?" When he said nothing, she reached out for his chin, pulling his face toward her. Reluctantly, he met her eyes. "What is this really about?" she asked.

"I can't give you what you need!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet to pace across the floor.

"What I need?"

"A husband! A family!" He threw his hands up into the air to emphasize his words. "Bloody hell, Smith, if you were to become with child..."

"Is that what you're worried about?" she asked. "A child?"

"I could never be a father!" he shouted. He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands over his face before lowering his voice. "What could I give a child, Bella? A criminal as a father? No. It can't happen. I won't let it."

Bella watched him for a moment, realizing she would have to handle this situation very carefully. In truth, the idea of having Edward's child, although terrifying, also gave her the smallest twinge of excitement. Not that this was the ideal situation, of course, but to have a child – someone part her and part Edward – a piece of him once he left her…

Well, she would have been lying if she said the idea didn't have some appeal.

Of course, she would never do that to him, not knowing how he felt about it. Such a thing would be a tremendous betrayal. Still, she wanted to be with Edward, here, now, and knew she'd have to tread lightly.

"Edward, come here," she said quietly, patting the bed next to her.

After a moment, he obeyed – much to her surprise – but said stiffly, "You're not going to change my mind." Which was not as surprising.

Stubborn man.

"Let me ask you a question," she said, reaching out to take his hand. "What we did the other night – after the dancing..." She blushed but pushed through it. "Could that give me a child?"

Edward snorted in surprise. "What are you on about, Smith? Of course not."

"Mmm hmmm..." She scooted closer to him, resting her chin on his shoulder and releasing his hand to wrap her arms around his waist. "So we could...possibly...do that again?"

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Aye. I suppose we could," he admitted slowly.

She mouthed at his shoulder, planting wet kisses against his skin. She felt him stiffen as she brushed her fingertips across his stomach. "And are there...other things we could do that might be equally pleasurable, but without the risk of pregnancy?"

He turned toward her then, a slight smile lifting his lips. He eyed her carefully for a moment, then one hand slid to her knee and up – ever so slowly – under the hem of her shift.

"Aye," he said, voice low with promise. "Many things."

"Interesting," she murmured as he leaned in to kiss her. "Then I just have one more question."

He tilted his head, nibbling and sucking at her neck as his fingers brushed her upper thigh. "Yes?" he whispered against her throat.

She shuddered, fingers tangling in his hair. "What are you waiting for?"

With a barking laugh, Edward picked her up and threw her onto the pillows.

"Saucy wench," he muttered, just before he ripped the shift from her body.

~0~

Bella still felt a bit dazed as she made her way to the deck some time later. Edward had left her with a deep kiss and a, "You do have some brilliant ideas on occasion, Smith," before heading to take over command, whistling along the way.

He was right. She was brilliant.

And Edward? Edward was a _master_.

He'd played her body like a fine instrument, his fingers drawing pleasure and whimpers in equal measure. When he'd slipped them inside her, she'd gasped at first, in shock and a bit of discomfort, but he was gentle, soothing her with sweet words and kisses, and soon she found herself demanding a stronger rhythm, a deeper press. And when he'd lowered his head for his tongue to join his fingers, she all but exploded in pleasure so much more intense than what he'd given her before. It went on and on, and Edward had seemed determined to draw every last bit out of her body, encouraging her with pleased moans against her flesh.

She spotted him at the wheel as she stepped out onto the deck and blushed when he caught her eye with a wink and a teasing grin.

Bella had learned a few things too. She'd asked how to give him pleasure – how to touch him – and Edward had proven to be a more than willing teacher. He'd showed her how to wrap her fingers around his length, his large hand wrapped around hers as he let her set the rhythm.

"Yes, like that," he'd whispered when she twisted her hand on impulse, encouraging her to do it again. She'd watched him in awe, his head thrown back and neck tense as he thrust into her hand. She wondered if he'd like her mouth as she'd enjoyed his and bent to lick tentatively at the tip. His eye flew open in shock and she froze as he gasped.

"I'm sorry-" She sat up abruptly.

"No!" he growled. "That's...I was just surprised..."

"I didn't mean-"

"Smith," he swallowed heavily, gaze focused on her hand still holding him but unmoving. "It's bloody fantastic. But god, woman, please don't stop. You're killing me."

Bella had grinned and set back to work, enjoying the giving of pleasure as much as the receiving. It was heady, this ability to make Edward come apart. It made her feel powerful to see him gasp and tense, hips jerking uncontrollably as his seed burst forth, spilling over her hand. She'd watched it, mesmerized, until Edward collapsed back onto the bed and reached for her, planting messy kisses all over her face along with whispered praises.

A crew man bumped into her, jerking Bella out of her rather colorful memories, and she realized the deck was busy with preparations to get underway. She stepped quickly to Edward's side.

"What's happening?"

"Aro and Laurent left Virgin Gorda about an hour ago. It's our turn."

"How do you know they're not watching for you?"

Edward shouted an order to a boy carrying a coil of rope before turning back to Bella. "We don't. All we can do is come at the island from the opposite direction. If he's nearby, hopefully we'll see him before he sees us."

The ship began to move, and Bella braced her legs as they navigated out of The Dogs and into open water. Her eyes darted across the horizon constantly, on the lookout for any sign of other ships. Of course, the boy in the crow's nest was probably much more capable, but she couldn't help herself.

As they picked up speed, she began to relax a bit and let her mind wander. She touched the coin at her neck, rubbing at it idly as she stared across the channel at Virgin Gorda.

_A coin to give sight._

How could a coin give sight?

_Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth and the life. No one cometh unto the father, but by me._

Bella couldn't help but think they were missing something. There had to be a connection, didn't there? Between the poem and the Scripture? Why else would Mellick include them both?

_I am the way...no one cometh...but by me._

_The way. _

The way to what? To the treasure, of course. What else could it be?

_A coin to give sight._

Hesitantly, Bella pulled the coin from her shirt, a quick glance ensuring nobody was paying attention to her. Edward was distracted talking to Jasper a few feet away, and everyone else was attending to their duties. She eyed the coin, rubbing over it with her thumb.

_The dastardly pirate kept it close at all times, because peeking through the hole gave him unbelievable power._

_What kind of power?_

_To see other worlds – worlds of adventure and treasure._

Her heart pounding, she lifted the coin to her eye, peering through the hole in the center. She gasped as everything suddenly fell into place.

"Edward!" She hurried over to him, excitement racing through her.

He held up a finger as Jasper asked, "So you think we should walk across Virgin Gorda, rather than risk laying anchor where Aro did?"

"He'll be expecting that," Edward replied. "We'll need to be careful."

Bella bounced on her toes, unable to wait another second. "No we don't!"

They looked at her in surprise. "What are you on about, Smith?" Edward asked.

"We don't need to worry about Aro, because the treasure's not on Virgin Gorda," she said.

Edward eyed her skeptically, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, where is it then?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I'll know soon."

"And how do you expect to do that?"

Bella grinned widely as she held up the coin. "Because _this_ is going to tell me."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: PLEASE NOTE: **There will be no teaser or update next week (Boo!) because I'm going to be heading to Comic Con (Yay!) If you're going to be there, I'll see you at the fandom meetup Saturday night! I'll also be on the Fanfiction panel Saturday at noon, so if you're there, I'd love to meet you!

I'll also be giving away some swag for my new novel MORE while I'm at Comic Con – follow my OF Twitter to see how you can win! TM_Franklin.

See you in two weeks!


	23. Chapter 23: Treasure Hunt

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **I had some anon reviews that I couldn't respond to, so I thought I'd do it here. Some are wondering about the "trust" issue as far as Newton is concerned. Remember, Edward addressed that a few chapters ago – trust is a relative thing and there are varying levels of it. He does trust Newton, at least as one of his crew.

As far as Edward's previous liaisons with women, and how he did that when he was so worried about pregnancy. 1. He'd only been with "professionals" in the past, so they knew how to handle such things and 2. Bella is a lady – he would treat her differently.

As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

* * *

><p><em><strong>It is done. The treasure is secure.<strong>_

_**Some may call me a monster for what I have done, but those who knew too much could not be allowed a chance to reveal that information.**_

_**I know God may not forgive me my sins. It is the price I must pay to protect my child's future. And if any others would stand in the way of that goal, I would not hesitate to cut them down as well.**_

_**The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, 22 April, 1667**_

**Chapter 23: Treasure Hunt**

"Are you certain this is the right spot?" Bella asked as Edward stood next to her on the bow of the ship, examining examined the sketched copy of the half of the map Aro had stolen. Unfortunately, the original had not been in the bag with the rest of the relics, and neither had the other half. Jasper and McCarty hovered nearby, but Edward had snapped at the rest of the crew to get back to work so they could focus on the task at hand.

"As certain as I can be," he replied, handing the map to Jasper. "Now what?"

Bella pulled the chain holding the coin over her head and held it out to him. "If I'm right, the positioning of the coin on the map is important. I think if we're in the right spot, looking through the hole will show us the way to the treasure."

"_A coin to give sight_," Edward murmured.

"Yes, and my father told me the story about the pirate looking through it to find treasure. I think he suspected the purpose of the coin all along."

Edward took the coin and held it up to his eye. "Which one do I look through?"

"I don't know," Bella said with a frown.

Jasper examined the map. "The orientation must be important," he said. "Since it's at the bottom of the map, we need to be facing north with the coin held as it's drawn here."

Edward looked through it again, then muttered to himself and pulled out his spyglass. He fitted the coin into the eyepiece and once again peered through it.

"Bloody hell," he muttered.

"What is it?" Bella bounced on her toes, heart beating wildly.

"See for yourself." He handed her the spyglass and she lifted it to her eye. Sure enough, with the coin in the spyglass, the smaller hole was filled with Virgin Gorda, but the larger hole circled a smaller island to the west.

"What island is that?" she asked, removing the coin so she could get a better look.

"_Isla Diosa."_

"But the natives call it _Erzulie Freda_." Jacob appeared at that moment, leaning on the mast and crossing his arms over his chest. "Is that where we're headed then?"

Edward glared at him, and Bella quickly interceded. "Are you familiar with the island, Jacob?"

He nodded. "I'm familiar with most of the islands around here. I was born not far away."

"Well, that's perfect," she said with a cheerful smile. "You'll be a big help, I'm sure."

Edward grumbled something she couldn't quite make out, then gave the order to set sail for Isla Diosa.

~0~

The crew was tense when they made it onto open water, everyone on watch for a sign of another ship. To avoid drawing attention, they used the confiscated dinghies to get to shore, with Edward, Bella, Jasper and Jacob in one, Emmett, Crowley, and a couple of mates Bella couldn't remember the names of in the other. Newton, much to her delight, was left in command of the ship. If Aro and Laurent showed up, the Master Gunner would be needed more on the ship than on shore.

She didn't miss the hostile glances Edward shot at Jacob, and she knew he'd taken what Newton had told him to heart. She'd tried to talk him out of it, explained that Jacob could have many reasons for being on deck at strange hours, and that it made perfect sense that he'd gone into hiding when Aro had attacked - after all, hadn't many of the men? But Edward would not be swayed. He trusted his crew more than this man whom he'd only known for a short time, regardless of who his father was. In the end, Bella tried to play peacemaker as much as possible and stayed true to her conviction that Jacob would prove loyal and valuable in this quest.

Isla Diosa was smaller than Virgin Gorda, its most impressive feature a large volcano near the center of the island, surrounded by jungle and large mounds of scattered boulders. They came ashore on a wide beach with unfortunately no place to hide the dinghies. They overturned them, tossing handfuls of sand over the hulls to disguise them as much as possible before heading farther inland. Bella glanced back to see The _Arrow _in the distance, en route to Virgin Gorda - a ploy, should it be needed, to buy them time if Aro did indeed return.

She hoped it would be enough.

They trudged through the sand and into the shade of a grove of palm trees. Edward eyed the surrounding area and consulted the map once again.

"Now what?" Jasper asked.

Edward crumpled the map slightly, letting out a groan of frustration. "We must be missing something."

"Aye," McCarty said wryly. "The other half of the map."

"I'd hoped once we were here things would become a bit more clear, but…" Edward took off into the trees, pacing back and forth. The men settled in, sitting on the sand or leaning against a handful of large boulders, waiting for their captain to work things out. Bella took a deep breath and did a bit of pacing herself, exploring the surrounding area. Through the trees, she could spot the rise of a hill to the west, the base littered with rocks but curving upward into a high bluff.

"Perhaps we should climb up," she suggested, pointing to the bluff. "Get a better perspective of the island?"

Edward followed her gaze, considering the suggestion. He shrugged. "Good an idea as any, I suppose. McCarty, you come with me. The rest of you-"

A loud crack had them all whirling in the sand, swords drawn. Edward and Jasper exchanged a tense glance as the foliage rustled from the direction of the beach. Had Aro found them already? If so, how? And what of the _Arrow _and her crew? Bella's fist tightened around the hilt of her sword, and she braced her feet, holding her breath as she waited.

They came closer, low voices filtering through the breeze, the words indistinguishable.

Then...a laugh.

A _female _laugh.

Another glance between Edward and Jasper - this one of amused relief as they sheathed their swords. "Avast!" Edward called out to the men. "'Tisn't Aro."

Bella gaped at him in surprise, still tense and watching. "Who is it, then?"

He just smirked as a flash of blue appeared between the trees, and Bella made out a group of people moving toward them. She breathed in relief when she recognized one as Jenks...then Thomas and Allegheny...

"How in the world?" she murmured.

Jasper laughed. "How do you think?"

The men came forward with grins and handshakes, and Bella finally realized there was a fourth member in their group hidden behind their large frames, a hat with a large blue feather peeking out between their shoulders. Jenks approached the captain, and Bella squealed when the fourth person was revealed.

"Alice?"

"Hello, Bella. It's good to see you again," she replied, stepping forward with a grin. "What do you think?" She twirled around, and Bella had to laugh in response. Alice was dressed as she was, in breeches and boots, a dark blue coat brushing at her knees and the blue feather curving proudly from her hat.

"You look wonderful! But what are you doing here? How did you find us?"

Alice laughed. "Well, that's kind of my job." She turned to Edward, sobering slightly. "Not long after you left, I felt that you needed me – or you _would_ need me. I saw your men here going ashore and set off to intercept them."

"It sounded a bit daft, but your sister can be quite convincing, Captain," Jenks added. "We caught passage on the _Agua Clara_. Captain Harry says hello."

Edward absorbed it all with an amused half smile, then pulled his sister into a hug. "I'm glad you're here," he said. "I was just hoping for someone to point us in the right direction."

Alice beamed, reaching out for Jasper's hand. "Well, then," she said. "It appears I've arrived just in time."

~0~

Edward watched impatiently while Bella showed Alice the journal and the map. He'd tried to do it himself, but after a few minutes, his sister had not-so-politely told him to leave her alone.

She said he kept staring at her like he was waiting for something to happen. He had to admit he was. Edward still didn't have a full grasp on how Alice's visions worked, even after all these years, and he could occasionally try to push her a little too hard.

Alice snapped that she wasn't a horse you could train to jump with a click of the tongue. She could help them along to a certain extent, but the visions generally came when they came.

Edward wasn't particularly fond of that aspect of Alice's gift.

So they decided it was best all around if Bella explained what they'd learned so far about the treasure. Jasper stayed nearby, of course. The man could never be too far from Alice when she was within reach. But he kept silent, allowing the women to pore over the documents undisturbed.

Edward hadn't been so quiet, which was why he'd been banished to the boulder on the other side of the palm grove. He'd sent the rest of the men – save Black, who sat across from him in the sand, tearing a leaf to bits – to survey the area and keep watch for Aro. Edward, meanwhile, sat staring at Alice and Bella, willing them to come up with something – anything – to help them move forward.

He also found himself smiling softly whenever his gaze rested on Bella, remembering their extraordinarily pleasant interlude in bed, and the way she had calmed him down when he'd panicked. He didn't know what he'd expected when he'd revealed his concerns, but it definitely wasn't that Bella would convince him to experiment with _other_ means of sexual pleasure.

The woman was definitely full of surprises.

He watched her now, head bent close to Alice's as they studied the journal, gesturing with one hand to make a point. He hadn't lied when he'd told Bella this was all new to him. But what he _hadn't_ said was it wasn't simply the fact that she was a lady. True, his experience with women had in the past been limited to those of the professional variety – an exchange of lust and fun for coin, and nothing more. But it wasn't the fact that Bella was different that had him so nervous – even terrified at times.

It was the fact that _he_ was different.

He found himself longing for things he had no business longing for, hoping for things that could never be. And his panic about the possibility of a child was not solely because he feared becoming a father. It was that – for a dizzying moment – he realized he _wanted _it.

He wanted her, and not temporarily. Edward had to admit, if only to himself, that he loved her, and that was the most terrifying thing of all.

Feminine laughter drifted toward him, and he smiled before he realized what he was doing. He was a scoundrel of the worst sort, he admitted to himself, to take what Bella offered when he could offer nothing in return. But when she so adamantly insisted that it was what she wanted – that _he_ was what she wanted – he just couldn't resist her.

A scoundrel indeed. Pathetic and weak. But then again, he'd never claimed to be otherwise.

With a heavy sigh, he tried to shake off his unproductive thoughts and focus on the task at hand. He caught sight of Black, and his jaw tightened. Now this was a problem he could deal with.

Black, however, beat him to it. "I know you don't trust me," he said, tossing pieces of leaf to the sand. "Although I've given you no reason not to. In fact, I've only tried to do my part since I came on board the _Arrow._"

Edward schooled his expression, giving nothing away. "I trust few men."

"But me less than others," he said, his jaw clenched tightly. "I see the way you watch me, as if waiting for me to turn on you at any moment."

"Will you?"

"Of course not!" He got to his feet, brushing the sand off his clothes. "What could I possibly have to gain from that?"

Edward watched him carefully, trying to read his expression. "Men will do many things for the right amount of coin."

Jacob laughed humorlessly. "I have no need of coin, other than to feed my belly. I have no desire for riches. And despite what you may think of me, I am not without honor." His accent grew thicker in the heat of emotion. "I do not betray my friends."

"I'd hardly call us friends."

"Bella," he snapped. "_Bella_ is my friend. I would never betray _her_."

"Everything all right, gentlemen?" Alice interjected, looking from one to the other warily. Edward hadn't noticed the two women approaching.

"Fine," he said gruffly. "Any luck?"

"Not really," Bella said, offering Jacob a sympathetic look before turning back to Edward. "Although Alice does feel we're on the right island, at least."

"Well, that's something."

Alice sighed. "I thought maybe Jacob here could tell me a little about it. I understand it's called Isla Diosa – Goddess Island, is that right?"

Jacob spared Edward one more hard look before turning his attention to Alice. "Aye, that's what the foreigners call it at least. It's always been uninhabited because of the volcano, although it hasn't erupted in-"

"The foreigners?" Alice tipped her head.

"What?"

"You said foreigners call it Isla Diosa."

Jacob nodded. "Aye, Columbus named it that. The natives still call it Erzulie Freda, though – named for the mountain."

Alice froze. "Did you say _Erzulie Freda_?"

"What is it, Alice?" Edward asked.

She ignored him, waving Bella forward. "Let me see the journal again." Bella handed it to her,and she flipped quickly to the torn back page. "_And when the light emerges from Aphrodite's kiss, The sword will lead the way,_" she read, slapping the book shut with a beaming smile. "_Aphrodite's kiss!" _she exclaimed.

"Bloody hell, Alice, what are you on about?" Edward stood with his hands propped on his hips.

Alice rolled her eyes, but the smile didn't fade. "Erzulie Freda," she said, enunciating carefully, "is a Vodou goddess."

"Aye." Jacob nodded, stepping away from the tree. "The island was thought to look like her lying on her back in the sea - the volcano, her face. It's where the name came from."

Edward huffed. "But what has that got to do with-"

Alice held up a finger. "Among other things, she's the Vodou goddess of _love._"

It took Edward a moment, but when he made the connection, a slow smile lit his face. "Aphrodite."

Alice grinned. "Aphrodite."

"I think," he said, "that we're heading for the mountain."

~0~

They followed an overgrown path through the thickening jungle, palm trees blocking out the sun overhead and creating a cool canopy as they trudged through the underbrush. Eventually, the trees thinned and the ground became more rocky, large boulders delineating the base of the inactive volcano. They split up, the two mates on guard duty along the path, the rest spreading out along the base of the mountain, searching for anything unusual.

Edward wasn't certain what, exactly, but he really didn't see any other option.

"Perhaps we're making this more difficult than it needs to be," Bella said after a while. "May I see the map again?"

Edward unrolled the parchment and handed it to her. "What are you thinking?"

She knelt on the ground, spreading out the map and pointing to the sketch of the coin. "I was just thinking that maybe this shows us more than we thought." Looking around, she picked up a couple of thin sticks from the ground and placed them carefully on the map. "If we draw a line from this hole to Virgin Gorda...and the other to this island..." She looked up at him. "Shouldn't this point to where we should go?"

"Well, if we drew the map correctly, yes," he admitted. "It makes as much sense as anything, I suppose."

Unfortunately, Isla Diosa was not depicted on the half of the map they'd been able to reproduce, and for the next few minutes, a heated discussion erupted as to exactly where on the island they were and where on the map it should be. Finally, Jacob stepped forward, picking up another stick. Without a word, he dropped to a knee and drew an outline of the island in the sandy ground along the edge of the map and a slightly lopsided circle to show the base of the mountain. He reached down, adjusting Bella's stick slightly, then turned to examine the rise of the volcano behind him. After a moment, he pointed to the right.

"Over there," he said. "Somewhere by those big boulders."

Edward still didn't trust Jacob, but seeing no alternative, they moved to the area that Black indicated, facing a high wall of solid rock about fifty feet long. They spread out to search for a sign – a cave entrance perhaps, or a marker showing where the treasure might be buried. They ran their fingers along cracks in the rock, pushed against boulders, scraped away at the gravel and rocks covering the ground, but after an hour, they gave up in frustration. They pulled out some food and drink they'd brought along, passing around bits of hardtack and dried beef and skins of water.

No rum this time. Edward thought his men needed the focus. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be helping. McCarty and Crowley continued to examine the wall, moving beyond the area delineated by Jacob. Black, for his part, sat studying the map and muttering to himself. Jenks, Allegheny, and Thomas set off to check on the mates on guard duty. Alice and Bella spoke in quiet tones as they ate, and Jasper sat against a boulder, staring at the wall and tossing rocks against it with a frown.

"Don't you see anything, Alice?" Edward asked in frustration. She sipped water from a skin and wiped perspiration from her forehead.

"I'm trying," she said, just as frustrated. "All I can see is darkness. I can't make anything out."

"That's because there's nothing to make out," Jasper snapped. "If there _is_ a treasure, we're obviously in the wrong place." He ripped off a piece of beef to gnaw on and threw a few more rocks.

"This has to be the place," Edward retorted. "We've followed the map...the clues..."

"Clues?" Jasper snorted, picking up a larger rock. "Is that what you call them?" He threw the rock with a little more force, and it broke a small piece off the wall before falling to the ground. He nodded a little in satisfaction and grabbed another. "Rantings of a madman is more like it." He tossed another rock, breaking off another piece of the wall.

"That's not helpful, Jasper," Bella said shortly. "If you don't have any better ideas, maybe you should be quiet."

"Bella," Alice protested. "We're all feeling frustrated. There's no reason to take it out on Jasper."

"Well, his attitude is not productive."

"Nobody is being productive at the moment," Jasper grumbled, throwing another rock. "I believe that's the point."

"All of you, stop it!" Edward ordered. "I need to think."

The bickering cut off, and Edward began to pace, the only sounds his quiet footsteps and the steady chink of Jasper throwing rocks.

"Perhaps the top of the map isn't north, after all," Jacob offered.

Edward sighed. "It has to be. There are no matching land masses if we change the orientation of the map.

"Perhaps you misaligned the coin? Chose the wrong island?"

Jasper threw another rock and a large chunk of dried mud dislodged from the wall. He lifted his arm to throw another and froze.

"It's not the wrong island," Edward replied, trying to remain calm. "The name makes too much sense. The mountain has to be where we start. We're obviously just in the wrong spot on the mountain."

"Maybe we need to climb up?" Emmett suggested.

Jasper ignored the conversation, stood quietly, and approached the wall, running his finger along the long crack now visible from the ground to just above his head. He scanned the ground and picked up a sharp rock, chipping away at what was apparently not rock, but dried mortar of some kind. The crack continued horizontally for a couple of feet, then down again...almost like...

"Captain?" he called out. "I think I found something."

They gathered around him, scrutinizing the wall with eager eyes. It was Bella who gasped first. "Is that a door?"

"It appears so," Jasper replied. "It was just hidden by a layer of mud."

With no further instruction, the men picked up rocks and began to chip away at the mortar, excited murmurings replacing the frustrated grumbling from before. After a few minutes, they stepped back to examine their handiwork with wide smiles.

It was indeed a door carved into the rock, and if that wasn't enough to convince them they were in the right place, the letters _S.A.M. _chipped into the stone halfway up the right side would have proven the fact.

Emmett stepped forward, slipping the tips of his fingers into the crack along the edge of the door. The muscles in his forearms tensed as he tried to pull it open. "Help me out here, Crowley," he muttered, and the two of them put their shoulders to the door, trying instead to push it.

"Men," Alice muttered to Bella. "Always with the brawn instead of the brains." She flipped to the last page of the journal. "_A key for the door_," she read, loud enough for the rest to hear. "Obviously, it won't open without the _key_."

Edward frowned, mainly to cover up his aggravation that he hadn't been the one to realize that. He reached into the bag for the chest and pulled out the locket, eyeing the door skeptically. He stepped closer, then bent down to examine the initials, rubbing his fingers over the engraved letters.

"I think there's a hole here," he said quietly, picking up a rock to scrape at the stone below the letters. Everyone stepped forward, silent and tense, as a piece of stiff mortar chipped away, revealing a thin rectangular hole in the door. Right where a keyhole would be.

Edward examined the locket, the emerald on one side, the Latin engraving on the other.

_Behold, I stand at the door and knock._

Drawing a deep breath, he pressed the locket into the keyhole. Or at least he tried to.

It didn't fit.

"Perhaps if you open it up?" Bella offered.

He nodded, opening the locket until it lay flat. The group held their breath as the metal slid easily into the keyhole this time. Now to turn it. Edward could feel his heart pounding as his fingers tightened on the edge of the silver locket.

"Don't break it!" McCarty cautioned loudly, making them all jump.

"Bloody hell!" Edward snapped. "I'm not going to break it!"

McCarty shrugged sheepishly but said nothing else.

Returning his focus to the key, Edward inhaled deeply and turned it – ever so carefully – to the right.

With a loud click, the door shook and swung inward, a cloud of dust revealing a dark passageway draped with cobwebs.

"No wonder I couldn't see anything," Alice murmured. "It's black as pitch in there."

Edward felt a gentle squeeze and realized Bella had taken his hand. He looked down to see her grinning up at him.

"We've found it," she said, bouncing slightly on her toes. He couldn't resist lowering his head to kiss her soundly.

"Not quite," he replied. "But soon." He straightened, stepping toward the opening, not releasing Bella's hand.

"Crowley, light the lantern!" he ordered. "I think it's time we found us a treasure!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Please know I have a pile of deadlines coming up over the next two weeks, so if you don't see me around on Twitter or wherever, that's why. I'll do my best to update on time, but please be patient with me.

Thanks so much for reading!


	24. Chapter 24: The Sword Will Lead the Way

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **

****WARNING****

**This chapter ends on a cliffie – and there will be NO update next week. **I will be volunteering at a camp all week with limited Internet access, so I won't be able to update. Just wanted to let you know, in case you want to wait to read this chapter.

As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Pay heed to the Word<strong>_

'_**Twill guide you forth**_

_**A coin to give sight**_

_**A cup to satisfy your thirst**_

_**A key for the door**_

_**Then cross the bridge to bridge the gap**_

_**And when the light emerges from Aphrodite's kiss**_

_**The sword will lead the way**_

_**- The Journal of Simon Alistair Mellick, Date Unknown**_

**Chapter 24: The Sword Will Lead the Way**

Bella swept a cluster of cobwebs away from her face, grimacing in the murky darkness. Edward was just ahead of her, carrying a lantern, the rest of the men following behind as Crowley took up the rear with a second lantern. The path followed a low-ceilinged cave, just barely tall enough for Emmett to walk upright and wide enough for two to walk abreast. Jacob explained that volcanoes in the islands often housed miles of such winding caves. Bella did not find that the least bit reassuring.

Still, she was excited. The discovery of the door – and the fact that the key Mellick described actually opened it – sent a thrill through her, and she couldn't help but believe that they were on the right track. Excitement buzzed along her skin as she followed behind Edward, making the cobwebs almost tolerable.

Almost. She brushed another one aside with a grimace. Edward reached back to take her hand, and Bella smiled slightly at the gesture. He pulled her along, eager to get wherever they were going.

Of course, she had no idea where they were going, and she had a feeling Edward didn't either. So they followed along where the cavern led, curving back and forth until it descended sharply, the steep angle forcing them to grip the damp stone walls to keep their balance.

"We must be deep below the surface," Jasper said after a while, his voice echoing sharply against the walls.

"Aye," Edward agreed. "I wonder how much farther-" He came to an abrupt stop, and Bella bumped into his back, stumbling a bit.

"What is it?" she asked.

Edward held up the lantern, illuminating the path before him. Or rather, the lack of path. The floor fell away into the darkness, and Bella could just make out the edge of the other side of the chasm in the dim light. It was much too far to jump.

Jasper stepped forward, picking up a rock and tossing it lightly over the edge. They were silent, listening for the sound of the pebble hitting the bottom, but the faint _plink_ after a full five seconds proved it was farther away than they'd hoped.

"Perhaps a rope?" Jasper suggested.

Edward called Crowley forward so they could examine the area with both lanterns, but there were no outcroppings or anything else that they could tie a rope to in order to swing across the gap.

"So there's no way across," Edward muttered to himself. "We can't climb down and climb back up again." He looked up, examining the smooth stone walls as far as the lantern light reached. "But there must be a way."

"Maybe it's like the key and the door," Bella offered, unwilling to give up. "We need to find a way around or over. This must be part of the puzzle."

Edward nodded in agreement. "Spread out," he ordered. "Look for anything that seems out of the ordinary."

It was Alice who found what they were looking for: a small alcove, hidden behind a corner they'd missed at first, the opening barely noticeable in the darkness. Edward pulled Bella into the niche with him, Alice peeking around the corner curiously. The others waited out in the main passageway.

A stone platform about waist high stood in the center of the little alcove, cylindrical in shape, with a narrow lip running around the upper edge. Edward held the lantern close to the platform, and Bella smiled when she made out the initials _S.A.M._ engraved in the center.

"I guess we've found it," she murmured, running a finger over the letters.

"Aye, but now what do we do with it?"

"Well, you've already used the coin and the key," Alice interjected. "It doesn't seem like the cutlass is the best option here, so perhaps the cup?"

Edward opened the bag and pulled out the cloth-wrapped cup. He examined it in the lantern light, reading the inscription aloud. _"Pones coram me mensam ex adverso hostium meorum inpinguasti oleo caput meum calix meus inebrians_."

"What does it mean?" Alice asked.

"It's from the Psalms," Edward replied. "_Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over."_ He held the cup in his hand for a moment, eyeing the platform with a slight frown, then carefully set the cup into the indentation on top of it.

It fit perfectly.

Bella held her breath, waiting for whatever was going to happen.

Nothing did.

Edward stepped around her to poke his head out into the main passageway. "Anything?" he asked.

"Not yet," Jasper called, his voice echoing in the cavern.

Edward re-entered the small room, moving quietly around the platform, his gaze focused on the cup.

"We're missing something," Bella muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

Edward raised a brow. "Aye."

_"A cup to satisfy your thirst," _she murmured to herself, staring at the cup. "_My cup runneth over." _She started slightly, looking up at Edward, who was watching her with a slight smile.

"What?" she asked.

"You're right, of course," he said.

"Right about what?"

"The cup!" He crossed to the doorway again, calling out. "Bring me a skin of water!"

"Edward, what are you talking about?" Bella glanced at Alice, who smiled knowingly.

"If a cup is to satisfy your thirst," Alice said, "it needs to be full, doesn't it?"

"Aye," Edward added, taking the skin from Jasper and crossing to the platform. "In fact, it should _runneth over." _With that, he tipped the skin, pouring water into the cup until it trickled over the rim. The center of the platform dropped an inch, a loud click echoing through the alcove as more water sloshed over the rim of the cup. They heard a screeching sound, followed by excited shouts, and Edward and Bella exchanged a quick glance before hurrying out into the main passageway.

They came to an abrupt stop behind the others, tilting their heads to follow their gaping line of sight. At first, Bella couldn't see a thing, despite the fact that both Edward and Crowley held their lanterns aloft. Then...more scraping sounds...a slight movement.

"What is that?" McCarty asked quietly.

No one responded, all eyes focused above as the sounds got louder. They stepped back, nervous and unsure, as something large and rectangular descended slowly toward them. As it drew closer, gaining illumination from the lanterns, Bella could see it was made of thick wooden panels, bound together by iron pins and suspended by heavy chains.

"It's a bridge!" she exclaimed.

Indeed, after a few minutes, the wooden platform came to rest across the gap with a thud and a cloud of dust. The last of the screeching echoed through the cavern until they stood in silence once again.

"Remarkable," Edward muttered, still trying to see farther above them. "Pulleys and counterweights, I'd imagine, much like a capstan."

"Mellick certainly had a flair for the dramatic." Bella moved forward, examining the bridge before stepping onto it. "Well, I suppose this is the _cross the bridge to bridge the gap_ then. So shall we cross?"

They walked slowly across the bridge, a little uneasy at first, but it seemed quite solid. Jasper reached out for a hand rail, testing its strength. "I wonder how he built all of this."

Edward grimaced slightly. "Well, he had significant coin. He hired local help."

"Seems a bit risky for someone so paranoid about keeping a secret."

Bella glanced from Jasper to Edward. She'd read the journal, so she knew how Mellick had handled that problem.

Edward shrugged. "He kept the workers blindfolded on the way to and from the caverns," he explained. "Only a couple of men knew the true location." He paused, raising an eyebrow at Jasper, his face shadowed in the lantern light. "They did not live long enough to share the information."

Jasper swore under his breath.

"If I'm right," Edward continued as he stepped off the bridge and back onto the stone floor, "they're somewhere in here, hidden with Mellick's Gold."

Bella shuddered at the thought.

They continued in silence for a while, the path narrowing until they could only walk in single file. Bella noticed that they didn't appear to be in a tunnel any longer, at least not a naturally occurring one. The walls were definitely man made and at least twelve feet tall. Every now and then they'd come to another high wall and have to turn either left or right. Edward wouldn't pause before turning to the right every time.

"Do you know where you're going?" Bella asked, quiet enough so the others couldn't hear.

Edward's lips lifted slightly. "No idea. But we're bound to get there eventually."

Bella shook her head. "Excellent plan, Captain. Let's hope we don't get lost in the bowels of this mountain for all eternity."

"So macabre," he replied with a grin. "How about some positive thinking, Smith? We haven't come all this way to fail now."

"There's no logic to that whatsoever."

"Logic is overrated. Besides, I think-" He came to a stop at the entrance to a room, approximately twelve feet square. It was surrounded by more high stone walls with a half-dozen doorways appearing at random intervals. In the center of the room stood another platform similar to the one in the alcove but rectangular in shape. Edward cast Bella a victorious look. She ignored him and walked toward the platform, the others following her to gather around it.

"Curious," she said, smiling at the familiar initials carved in the center. "It looks like a maze of some sort."

She ran her fingers over the raised areas on the platform, and indeed they did seem to be the walls of a maze. She ran her finger along the path, frowning as, time and again, she'd find herself blocked by a wall, or ending up back where she started.

"What do you think it means?" she asked Edward.

"Maybe we're in the maze," he suggested. "And this is a map."

"But a map to where?" Alice frowned, leaning in for a better look. "It doesn't seem to lead anywhere."

Edward examined it closely, looking up to compare it to the layout of the room. "McCarty," he ordered, pointing toward one of the doorways. "Try that one...go left at the first fork, then right..." He squinted, following a path on the map. "Then right again. Come back and tell us what you find." He turned to Crowley. "Take Black and try this other doorway." He pointed out a path for them to follow, and the two set off with the other lantern. The rest of the group waited in the now dark room, the only sounds a faint dripping of water and their own breathing. Bella felt Edward's fingers twine around her own and squeeze them gently.

After a few minutes, McCarty reappeared in the same doorway he had disappeared through.

"Well?" Edward said, eyeing each in turn. "What did you see?"

"Nothing," McCarty replied. "I followed your instructions, but it just led me right back here." The other two men returned a few minutes later with the same response.

"That's odd," Edward muttered, turning back to examine the map of the maze again. "This map is all wrong. It's like there's a piece missing."

Bella bent to look closer, a twinge of excitement racing up her spine. "Or a _gap_," she offered. "_Cross the bridge to bridge the gap."_

"But we already crossed the bridge," Jasper pointed out, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

"Or maybe Mellick was referring to something else altogether," Bella replied.

"The cross," Edward said softly.

"The cross." She smiled widely. "I can't believe we didn't even consider it was part of the puzzle."

Edward quickly pulled the chest out of the oilskin bag and opened it to retrieve the carved wooden cross. He examined the engraving. "Seems so obvious now," he said. "From the Gospel of Saint Matthew: _If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me."_

"So what?" McCarty asked. "Is it a key, like the locket?"

"No... No, I don't think so," Edward murmured, turning the cross this way and that as he eyed the maze. "_Cross the bridge to bridge the gap."_ He slipped the cross into an empty space in the center of the maze, and it clicked softly.

Bella grinned, tracing the newly revealed path with her finger. "That's it! That's the way to go!"

"Aye," Edward agreed, taking the lantern from McCarty and studying the map carefully before leading them toward one of the tunnels. "Try to keep up, men. It looks like we're almost there."

~0~

It only took a few more minutes for them to navigate their way out of the maze, and Edward couldn't keep the smile off his face.

They were close. He could feel it.

But though it was exhilarating that they were closing in on the treasure, and he was grimly pleased he would finally get his vengeance against Aro, he also couldn't deny a pang of loss at the thought.

The reason walked right next to him.

He knew with every step closer to the treasure, he was taking one farther away from Bella.

As if she knew his thoughts, she reached out at that moment to take his hand, and he slowed slightly to match her pace.

"The cutlass has to be next," she said, and Edward could hear the excitement in her voice.

"Aye, there's nothing else."

"How do you think we'll need to use it?" She looked up at him, eyes wide and glimmering in the lantern light, and he couldn't resist lifting her hand to his lips and planting a kiss on the back of it. He wondered what she saw in his expression that made her brow crease, and he forced a smile, unwilling to diminish her enthusiasm.

"I've no idea," he said. "But I'm sure we'll figure it out."

Bella nodded, gripping his hand a little tighter as they rounded a corner and entered a large cavern, much larger than the last room. It was also lighter, and Bella could see why when her eyes traveled up to the soaring ceiling, which peaked at a large hole off to one side, open to the blue sky beyond. The floor was littered with rocks of various sizes. They stepped tentatively into the cavern, splitting up to wander around the huge area. Bella ran a hand along the cool stone wall, gaping up at the opening in the ceiling – perhaps a hundred feet up, maybe farther. She wasn't one to judge distances well.

"There's no platform," she noted, indicating the center of the room.

Edward nodded and walked across the room, kicking a rock across the dusty floor. "Search the walls and floor then," he ordered. "There must be something here."

Jasper, naturally, began to throw rocks at the wall. At Edward's wry glance, he shrugged. "It worked last time."

"I don't know," Black said as he ran his hand roughly over the wall. "It seems this Mellick of yours isn't one to repeat himself. I'd doubt it's to be so simple."

Jasper snorted. "There's been nothing _simple_ about any of this."

They continued in silence for a while, Jasper continuing to half-heartedly throw his rocks while the rest of the men examined the walls for any signs of a door or passageway. Other than the one they had come through, however, there didn't appear to be one. Alice, meanwhile, took up residence under the hole in the ceiling, the light surrounding her with a diffuse glow. Her eyes were closed, and Edward assumed she was trying to access her gift, so everyone kept as quiet as possible to avoid distracting her.

Bella came to stand next to him in the center of the cavern. "Any thoughts?"

The corner of his mouth lifted wryly. "Plenty. Nothing helpful, however."

She kicked at a rock and frowned as it bounced into another. "I keep thinking over the poem; _the sword will lead the way. _I just can't figure out how it can lead us anywhere." She kicked another rock.

"Perhaps it's another key?"

"That would make sense, I suppose." She kicked at another rock and winced when it didn't move.

"Are you all right, Smith?"

She rubbed her toe on the calf of her other leg. "Yes. I just stubbed my toe."

"Need a kiss to make it better?" He winked.

Bella smirked. "Are you asking to kiss my toe?"

"Among other things."

"Cheeky."

"Always."

She stretched out her foot to prod at the unmoving rock, then bent to examine it more closely. "That's odd," she said. "This rock has a crease in it."

"A crease?" He crouched next to her, brushing the dust off the rock to reveal a crack about four inches long. He looked up at her. "There's more than a crease, Smith."

Bella smiled when she saw what he meant, reaching down to trace over the now familiar engraving on the rock: _S.A.M. _"We've found it," she murmured.

"Aye, it appears so." He retrieved the cutlass from the bag and removed it from its sheath. "Eyes open, everyone!" he called out as he stood. "I'm not sure what's going to happen next."

The men gathered around, and Alice opened her eyes as Edward slowly slid the cutlass into the crack in the rock. It locked into place, sticking out about halfway, and Edward could tell the others were holding their breath as he was. He looked up, gaze darting around the cavern.

"Well?" he muttered. "Come on, then."

The men turned to look for a newly revealed hidden doorway or trap door or anything, but found...nothing.

"I don't understand," Bella muttered, frowning in frustration. "Maybe you put it in wrong?"

Edward removed the cutlass and tried re-inserting it the other way. It wouldn't lock in, however. "No," he said. "It has to be this way." He replaced the cutlass again, wiggling it slightly for good measure.

Alice stepped forward, eyes open but slightly glazed. "You have to wait," she said quietly.

Edward straightened, taking a step back from the sword. "Wait for what?"

"It isn't time yet," Alice said, her voice a deep drone, and Edward realized she wasn't looking at him, but seeing something else. "You must wait for the light." She blinked several times and shuddered slightly, focusing completely on Edward.

"What do you mean?" Bella asked, touching Alice's arm lightly. "Do you mean from the Scripture?" She pointed to the engraving around the hilt of the cutlass. _And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light._

"I'm not certain," Alice admitted. "I just know you have to wait for it. The light is...coming, somehow." She looked up again, frowning at the hole overhead. "Jacob, you said this island was thought to look like Erzulie Freda lying in the sea."

"Aye, that's correct," Jacob replied.

She pursed her lips, tapping them slightly for a moment before pointing at the ceiling. "And that peak. What part of the goddess do you imagine that would have represented?"

Jacob moved to stand next to her, crossing his arms over his chest as he considered the hole. "Hard to say for sure. We've been going round and round in these tunnels so I'm not certain where exactly we are anymore.

"There are three peaks on the island," he explained. "One is said to be her knees, one her..." He coughed, glancing at her sidelong in embarrassment. "Err...her... " He held his hands in front of his chest.

Alice smirked. "I get the idea."

"What's the third?" Bella asked.

Jacob cleared his throat, looking up at the ceiling again. "Her mouth."

Bella gaped at him, and Edward saw that Alice was doing the same - only not as much gaping as looking rather satisfied.

"Or her _kiss_," Alice said smugly.

Jacob looked at her in surprise. "I suppose."

By that time, all of the men had joined them in the center of the room, and as one they looked up as a flash of light appeared in the hole. The sun edged into the opening, dust motes appearing as its warm rays streamed into the room. The beam grew stronger as the sun moved slowly across the opening, and they moved back slightly as it cut through the air of the cavern.

"_And when the light emerges from Aphrodite's kiss,_" Edward murmured, watching the beam as it moved ever so slowly across the floor. "_The sword will lead the way_."

As if on cue, the light hit the cutlass, flashing bright as it slid slowly up the blade until it glinted against the sapphire in the hilt.

"Look," Bella breathed.

The sapphire focused the beam against a spot on the far wall of the cavern. Edward stalked over to the spot, touching it gingerly where the stone glowed with blue-tinted light. He pushed it with his fingertips and felt it give slightly.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, pushing the spot harder. A rectangular block of stone, about the size of a brick, moved back into the wall, grinding a bit against its tight enclosure. Edward continued to push it until his arm disappeared up to his elbow. The sun moved past the opening in the ceiling and the cavern dimmed slightly.

"Nothing's happening," Bella said, moving to his side.

"I think..." Edward groped around a bit and felt empty space on the left side of the hole. "There's a gap back here," he said. "I can't reach in, though. It's too tight."

"Let me try," Bella said, gripping his arm with excitement.

Edward pulled his arm out and Bella quickly reached in, her much smaller arm navigating the space easily.

"Do you feel anything?"

"Give me a moment."

"It's to the left."

"Yes, I'm aware of that, Edward. My arm is in the hole."

"Just trying to help, Smith."

"Well, stop trying, please."

A ripple of laughter had them both turning to glare at the group that had by then gathered around them. The men exchanged amused glances, ignoring Edward's pointed look.

"See?" Alice told Jasper. "They're perfect for each other."

"If they don't kill each other."

"If you don't mind," Edward snapped. "We're attempting to find a treasure here."

Jasper held up his hands. "Apologies, Captain. Please, carry on."

Edward ignored the resulting snickers and turned back to Bella.

"I think I feel something," she said, eyes squinting in concentration. "Yes. It's a lever I think."

"Can you pull it?"

"I'm trying," she said through gritted teeth. "It seems to be a bit stuck."

"Come on, Smith," Edward encouraged. "Put your back into it."

She glared at him, and Edward felt a smile quirk at his lips. Here she was, a proper lady, groveling around in caves in breeches and boots...groping into secret nooks and ready to take a sword - or a rum jug - and fight by his side.

Alice was right. She was perfect for him.

Good God, he loved her. And until that moment, he hadn't realized exactly how much. The thought staggered him, and he almost reached out to take her in his arms in the heat of the moment.

Then she squealed.

"I got it!"

A loud click echoed through the cavern, and the adjacent wall began to shake. Bella pulled her arm from the hole, stumbling slightly, and Edward caught her around the waist to steady her. They watched wide-eyed as a large section of the wall broke away, pivoting on a center point and swinging around to reveal a dark passageway beyond.

"Well done, Smith," he murmured into her ear, pressing a quick kiss to her neck. She gasped, and he couldn't resist doing it again. Bella wriggled out of his grasp but grabbed his arm to pull him along.

"Come on, Captain," she said with a sunny smile. "Let's go see what we've found, shall we?"

He laughed, following her to the opening, the men and Alice close behind them. They came to an abrupt stop at the stone door.

"Lantern," Edward ordered, holding out a hand. Jenks passed it on without a word, taking the other from Crowley. Edward held the lantern aloft, reaching for Bella's hand as he stepped through the doorway.

"Oh my," Bella whispered as they stepped into another cavern, roughly the size of the one they'd left behind. But where the first room was empty, save a creased rock in the center of the floor, this one was not.

It was full.

Of gold.

Mounds of coins spilling from chests into piles on the floor, ropes of necklaces and bracelets twisted together among them. A pair of solid gold thrones sat against one wall, the tall backs carved with Aztec symbols and inlaid with gems in various colors, a golden mask lying on the seat of one of them. A low table sat next to the thrones, covered with more coins, and against the far wall, a golden statue at least fifteen feet tall kept watch over the treasure.

A whoop of joy echoed around the chamber, quickly joined by others, and before long all of the men were dancing around the room, trying on necklaces and masks and dipping their fingers into the piles of coins and letting them clink back to the floor. McCarty took a seat in one of the thrones, waving a golden scepter. Jenks and Allegheny tossed coins to each other, trying to catch them in their pockets. Jasper slipped a golden chain with a large engraved pendant over Alice's head and ducked in to kiss her lightly.

Edward turned to find Bella examining the statue - a man wearing a mask, sitting cross-legged on a high golden platform. Edward noticed that other than the mask, he wore only a loincloth, his legs and chest both bare. He moved to Bella's side and slipped an arm around her waist.

"Bit skinny, don't you think?" he teased.

Bella giggled. "I'm simply admiring the workmanship." She smiled up at him, eyes sparkling in the lantern light. "Can you believe we actually found it?"

Edward sighed, tucking a strand of hair that had escaped her queue behind her ear. "Couldn't have done it without you, Smith."

"Damned right you couldn't."

"Such language, Miss Swan!"

Bella tried to look affronted and failed, the smile forcing its way back almost immediately. She turned back to the statue, trailing a finger along the intricately carved platform as she slowly circled it. "So, how do you plan to get all of this out of here? Even though he's skinny, I'm sure this fellow is pretty heavy-" She gasped, stumbling backward as she reached the back of the platform.

"What is it?" Edward hurried to her side.

With a trembling finger, she pointed to the floor, and Edward grimaced at the sight before him. There, mixed in amongst the pile of coins and jewels, lay a human skull, jaw hanging open as it's gaping eyes stared unseeingly in their direction. Once he lifted the lantern, he could make out another skull...and another, the skeletons held together only by rotting scraps of clothing. He pulled Bella toward him, turning her face into his chest.

"Well, it seems this is where Mellick kept all his secrets," he muttered, turning to lead her away from the gruesome sight and into the shadow of another smaller statue. She choked on a sob, and he gripped her shoulders, ducking down to meet her stricken gaze.

"Buck up now, Smith. You're not going to swoon on me again, are you?" His teasing words had a soft edge, made even more so by the finger he brushed across her damp cheek.

She swallowed visibly and took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders. "I'm not going to swoon."

He half-smiled. "Good, because it's a long walk out of these caves, and I'd hate to strain my back carrying you."

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you calling me fat, Edward?"

Edward fought a grin, glad to see her color returning. "Not fat so much as..." He played at considering his words carefully. "Ample."

"Ample?" She bristled, shoving at his shoulder.

"No? Healthy, then? Plump? Robust?"

She smacked him harder with every word. Edward laughed and pulled her close, lifting her to her toes as his lips nearly brushed hers.

"Ah, I've got it," he murmured against them. "Comely."

"Comely?" Bella said breathlessly.

"Aye. Ye'r a comely wench, Smith." He caught her smile in a heated kiss, his tongue tracing her lips before delving deep. Bella clung to his shoulders, a slight whimper vibrating against his mouth, and he lifted her higher, her breeches making it easy to wrap her legs about his waist. He pressed her against the statue, hips rolling ever so slightly in an unconscious rhythm. Bella slid her hands higher, tangling them in his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp as she arched forward to meet him.

A recognizable click cut through the haze of lust and want, and Edward stilled, fingers tightening on Bella's hips as she whimpered in disappointment.

"Well, isn't this touching," a chilling voice said from behind him. "I have to say, _Eddie_, you do know how to have a good time."

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><p><strong>AN: Please see my profile for important information about all of my stories. Thank you!**

**I also posted a Cutlass outtake as a separate story - so check my profile if you missed it. **


	25. Chapter 25: Parley

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help, and to **KitsuShel **for pre-reading. Thanks also to all of you who have read, reviewed and recommended this story to others. It really means so much to me.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 25: Parley<strong>

Edward let Bella slide to the floor, her tense jaw and panicked eyes telling him all he needed to know. He turned around slowly, hands held up, and stood with his back to Bella, facing his worst enemy with a frozen glare.

"Aro."

"Aye," the man said with a sneer. He motioned with his extended flintlock for Edward to move from behind the statue, and he complied, keeping himself between Bella and that blasted pistol the whole way. His men were in similar states, disarmed and on their knees with Aro's men standing over them, swords drawn. He locked eyes briefly with Jasper, then McCarty, and each nodded slightly. They all knew that if they didn't fight, they were dead. They just needed to wait for the right opportunity. His sister watched with wide eyes, clinging desperately to Jasper's sleeve. He wished he could ask what she saw of the coming few minutes, but wasn't certain he really wanted the answer.

Aro waved his free hand while keeping his eyes focused on Edward. "I appreciate you finding the treasure for me, _Eddie_. I would have done it myself, but this was just so much more fun, don't you agree?"

"How did you find us?"

Aro tilted his head, his smile growing wider. "You haven't figured that out by now? And here I thought you were a rather clever fellow." He looked pointedly to the left. Edward followed his gaze, his jaw tightening when he saw Newton step out of the shadows to casually lean against one of the golden thrones. The man wiggled his fingers in greeting before spitting on the floor, and Edward's hand flew to his sword in reflex.

"I don't think so, _Eddie_," Aro warned, sharp as steel as the flintlock pressed against Edward's temple.

"You bastard," he heard Bella hiss, although he wasn't certain if it was aimed at Aro or Newton.

Edward gritted his teeth and lifted his hands up once again, his gaze focused on Newton. "What did he offer you to betray us?"

He shrugged nonchalantly and moved around to sit on the throne, crossing an ankle over one knee as he relaxed. "The _Arrow_, of course. And a larger portion o' all o' this than I'd ever get from the likes o' you."

Edward laughed. "You actually think he'll give you the _Arrow_? I knew you were dim, but I'd never thought you an idiot."

"Shut yer gob!" he snarled, leaning forward slightly, his black teeth clenched in anger.

Edward ignored him. "There's a reason he's called Aro the _Merciless_, you lice-infested scalawag. You're only worth something to him when you have something to offer. And you, you scurvy, mutinous bilge rat, are of no use at all anymore!"

"Mutinous bilge rat?" Bella murmured from behind his shoulder. "Nice."

"Y'don't know what yer talkin' about," Newton snarled, glancing at Aro. "Tell 'im, Cap'n. Tell 'im 'e's wrong."

Aro just rolled his eyes. "I don't have time for this nonsense."

"No!" Newton shouted, standing and stalking toward them. "Tell 'im I'm a cap'n now. The _Arrow's _mine, as it should be. Tell 'im."

"Watch yerself, boy," Aro warned with a glare. "Ye'll get what I give ye and be glad about it."

"But...the _Arrow_," he protested. "You told me-"

"Avast!" Aro shouted. "Don't push me, boy!"

Edward glanced at Jasper and could see his muscles tense, even across the room. He reached back discreetly to touch Bella's hand and felt her stiffen.

"I helped you!" Newton snapped at Aro. "You'd never have found the treasure without me!"

Without warning, Aro hauled back and punched Newton in the face, his flintlock never wavering from Edward's head.

"I said, don't push me," he snarled. "Now go sit down and shut up."

Newton wiped a spot of blood from his lip, then spat on the ground as he glared at Aro with hate-filled eyes. "You're not going to give me the _Arrow_, are you?" he asked quietly.

Aro laughed. "Ships are for _captains_," he said as if that explained everything. Newton's jaw tightened and his hand flew to his sword, drawing it as he lunged toward Aro.

He didn't get two steps.

Without blinking, Aro swept his arm to the side, firing his flintlock and hitting Newton between the eyes. The _Arrow's_ Master Gunner – _former_ Master Gunner – fell to his knees, wide-eyed, a shocked gasp escaping his lips before he collapsed in a crumpled heap amidst a pile of gold coins.

The room stilled in shock, but Edward didn't wait for Aro and his men to recover. He drew his sword, shoving Bella backward as he swung it in a wide arc toward his enemy. Aro caught sight of the movement quickly enough to shift his weight, and Edward's sword clanged against the still-smoking barrel of the flintlock.

Edward's men hadn't waited either. They sprang into action as Edward did, kicking out at their guards and scrambling for their weapons. He could hear the sounds of battle all around him and grinned in satisfaction, stepping over Newton's lifeless body to swing again at Aro. The blackguard dropped his pistol and drew his sword just in time to intercept the blow, and Edward spun, coming at him again from another angle.

Their swords caught, crossed between them as they leaned in with matching grimaces.

"You can't win, _Eddie_," Aro snarled.

"We'll see," he replied, shoving Aro back and jumping onto a table to gain a height advantage. He spotted Bella across the room, sword drawn as she hurried to Jacob's aid. Black was fighting two of Aro's men at once, and Edward spared a moment to regret ever doubting the man. Marcus spied Bella and started toward her, but before Edward could act, Aro came at him again, sword flashing in the dim light of the cavern.

"Smith!" he shouted as he jumped over Aro's sword, then parried with a quick turn. "On your flank!"

Bella whirled about just in time to duck under Marcus' swing. She ran past Edward and jumped up onto the statue's platform. "Are you watching my flank again?" She kicked one of Aro's men in the face, grimacing slightly.

Edward laughed as he leaped from the table to the platform to stand beside her. "It's a nice flank."

Marcus had turned his attention to Jasper, who fought side-by-side with Jacob across the room. McCarty shouted victoriously as he sliced the leg of one of Aro's men, who fell to the floor with a shriek before the Master Rigger turned to take on another, who'd apparently been in the outer room. Edward wondered how many men Aro had brought with him. They were already outnumbered, but the size of the room leveled the playing field a bit. There were only so many people who could fit inside, and Jenks and Allegheny moved to the door, effectively striking down anyone else who tried to come in.

"Look alive, men," Edward shouted, sword held high. "If any of these scurvy bastards leave these caves to bring back reinforcements, I'll have ye lights and livers!"

His men shouted in agreement, fighting with increased vigor, and Edward saw Aro shove off Crowley, his glittering black eyes focused on Edward as he started toward him.

"All right then," Edward muttered. "Come and get me."

~0~

Bella's arms ached, but she forced herself to hold her sword aloft. She winced as she spotted Alice across the room, taking a blow to the head before she crumpled to the floor. Jasper shouted her name and bent over her, touching her neck gently. He whirled around to fight again, and Bella sighed with relief when she saw Alice's chest expand with breath.

Edward jumped off the platform, fighting his way through toward Aro, and Bella's heart raced with worry. She didn't have much time to dwell on it, however, before the man she'd kicked in the nose got to his feet with a ferocious glare. Bella gulped and wished she had a rum jug.

"Ye'll pay fer that, wench," he snarled, wiping his nose with the back of one hand as he raised his sword with the other. Bella stepped back, eyes scanning for a means of escape. She knew her size was a disadvantage in a face-to-face fight, and her mind raced to even the odds. She spotted a gold-plated shield leaning against the back of the platform and saw her opportunity. As the man lunged at her, she jumped backward, stumbling and landing inelegantly on her backside with a loud, "Oof!"

The man leapt up onto the platform with a leering grin. "Don't worry, wench. I'll make it quick."

Bella kept her eyes firmly on him as she reached out for the shield, her fingers scrabbling on a pile of coins. A wave of despair clutched at her as she realized the shield was too far away. The man advanced, looming over her, and she stretched farther, finally touching something round and hard half-buried beneath the coins.

A rock. It could be her only chance. Around her, the fighting intensified with swords clashing and shouts of victory and pain, but behind the statue she was hidden from anyone who might help her, hidden from Edward. She clutched at the rock desperately as the man jumped off the platform and bent to sneer at her, his sword pointed at her throat.

"Or mayhap I'll make it slow," he said, rank breath and spittle spraying her face as his gaze drifted over her body.

Bella feigned paralysis, widening her eyes and willing him closer. Her fingers found a hole in the rock, and she tightened her grip. She held her breath as he stepped forward and dropped to his knees, straddling her. Her heart raced as he turned the sword so the flat lay against her neck and she struggled, only to freeze when he pressed the blade more firmly into her skin.

"I do like 'em feisty," he muttered, licking his lips.

Bella grimaced, her stomach roiling with nausea when he ran his nose down her cheek. The sword clattered to the floor as he replaced it with his hand, and she swallowed, feeling his fingers tighten around her neck.

He lifted his head. "Fight gone outta you?" he mocked, his hand sweeping down to tear at her shirt. "'At's a good wench."

Bella muttered, "Well it's not a rum jug, but..." She swung the rock with all her strength at the man's still-oozing nose. He howled as blood flowed more freely, joined by a stream from a newly-split lip. He rolled onto his back, pressing against the new wounds with both hands. Bella sprang to her feet and wasted no time kicking the man hard between his legs, anger and terror giving her a surge of strength. He screamed, curling up into a ball as she kicked him again for good measure. She lifted her hand to throw the rock at his head but made the mistake of looking at it first.

It wasn't a rock.

Her fingers gripped the eyeholes in the human skull of one of Mellick's assumed workers. The jaw was missing, and the grisly half-grin turned Bella's stomach yet again. She shrieked and threw the skull to the ground, hitting the pirate in the head, despite her lack of aim. She stood over his body, trembling and breathing in harsh pants, when Edward bounded over the platform with his sword held high. He took in the scene with amusement, until he noticed Bella's trembling and the tear in her shirt. His face darkened with fury, and he turned slowly to the man lying on the floor. He lowered his sword until the tip barely touched the man's neck. Bella's attacker froze, then rolled onto his back, hands held by his head in deference. Edward pressed a little harder with his sword, until a drop of blood bloomed at the point and mingled with the trickle from the man's nose and mouth.

"You dare," Edward hissed. "You _dare_ to touch my woman?"

Bella watched in shock and horror, finally jolting out of her stupor to say weakly, "Edward?"

He ignored her. "She is _mine_," he spat through gritted teeth, his voice low and deadly, "and you will pay."

Bella swallowed a wave of nausea. She'd seen Edward angry before, but never infused with such a single-minded, cold rage. She had no doubt he was about to kill a man right before her eyes. To her surprise, he lifted his sword slightly, then kicked the pirate's own sword toward him.

"Pick it up."

The man blinked in surprise, but it quickly melted into fear as he took in Edward's icy determination. He picked up his sword, though, and shakily got to his feet. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the hilt firmly in both hands and braced his feet for Edward's attack.

In the end, though, his preparations mattered little. Like an avenging angel, Edward advanced, sword flashing in the reflected lantern light. It took only one blow before his opponent's sword went flying yet again, but Edward didn't relent. He whirled about, and Bella clenched her eyes shut, only opening them moments later when she felt his arms encircle her.

"It's all right," he murmured quietly into her hair. "Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head, unable to speak when she saw the body lying on the floor behind him, the man's shirt covered with blood. She spun around, bending over with her hands on her knees as she breathed deeply, fighting the compulsion to vomit. Edward's shout drew her attention, and she looked up to find him once again on the platform, fighting another of Aro's men. No..._two_ of Aro's men. Aro himself had been detained by Allegheny, much to Edward's apparent irritation.

Bella swallowed, purposely avoiding looking at the dead body beside her. "Now's not the time, Smith," she muttered to herself, bending to pick up her sword. "You can fall apart when the fight is over." She jumped up onto the platform and deflected the blow of one of Edward's attackers. Edward glanced at her, relief evident on his features.

"Nice of you to join us."

She reached down for the shield she'd spotted earlier as Edward parried with first one man, then the other. She saw Jasper approaching, fighting off his own opponent.

"I couldn't let you have all the fun," she said, swinging the shield with both hands at one of the men Edward was fighting. A loud clang echoed through the chamber over the shouts and clashing of swords. The man blinked, stunned, before falling first to his knees, then flat onto his face.

"Aaaarrrrrr!" Bella shouted down at his inert body, all the anger and fear of the past few minutes erupting at once.

"Did you just say 'Aaaarrrrr?'" Jasper asked as he struck down his own opponent and jumped up onto the platform to catch his breath. He and Edward exchanged an amused glance, but Bella just raised her chin stubbornly.

"It's what pirates say, isn't it?"

Edward kicked at his opponent, then looked at Jasper again. The two men shrugged and turned to jump back into the fray.

They both shouted, "Aaarrrrrr!" on the way.

Bella gripped her shield, jumping down to follow Edward. He fought his way toward Aro, and she used her shield to both deflect blows and deal a few of her own. The fight had seemed to turn in their favor, with more of Aro's men lying on the floor than standing and fighting. But Bella knew there was only one fight on Edward's mind. It was the same one on hers. Anger burned in her chest when she caught a glimpse of Aro's face, mouth twisted in a grin as he spotted Edward coming toward him.

"I think it's time we ended this once and for all, _Eddie_," he said.

Edward elbowed another man out of his way before answering, "For the first time, we agree, old man."

They came together in a frenzy of sword clashes, evenly matched in both skill and motivation. Bella watched, heart in her throat, as first Edward seemed to prevail - the tip of his blade slicing across the older man's ribcage - then Aro, who created a matching wound along the length of Edward's thigh. Aro pressed his advantage, forcing Edward back against a table with three quick slashes of his sword. Edward rolled over the table, springing to his feet on the other side and ignoring the blood trickling down his breeches. Marcus elbowed one of the _Arrow's_ crew men in the face and started toward Edward, sword at the ready, but Aro stopped him with a shout.

"No," he said, climbing over the table. "Cullen is mine." He attacked with no further warning, his blade cutting through the air. Edward deflected the blows but retreated, stumbling backward on his injured leg. Bella saw too late the obstruction in his path, and just when she opened her mouth to shout a warning, Edward fell backward over Newton's lifeless body, his sword falling from his fingers.

Aro laughed, moving to stand over Edward as he lay sprawled amidst the coins and carnage. "When will you learn that you can never win against me, _Eddie?_" He grinned, gloating as Edward reached for his sword. Bella gulped, eyes darting about for a way to help and landing on the table behind Aro. She moved quietly toward it as Aro placed the point of his blade against Edward's neck.

"Such a pity. You really showed so much promise, _Eddie_," Aro said, shaking his head mockingly. "But I really have no more time to waste on you. I do have a treasure to collect, after all." His blade drifted down Edward's chest, coming to a stop with the point above his heart.

Bella climbed up onto the table behind Aro. Nobody paid her much attention, each focused on his own fight. Marcus watched Aro's actions carefully, jaw tight as his fist tightened around the hilt of his own sword.

"So I'm afraid it's time to say goodbye," Aro said, angling the sword straight up and down as he placed his other hand flat on the hilt, prepared to force it down.

Bella stood, grasping the shield in both hands as she lifted it over her head. The movement caught Marcus' attention, and he started toward her shouting a warning at Aro at the same time. She didn't wait for him to react. With all her might, she swung at Aro's head, the resounding clang echoing through the chamber as Aro collapsed bonelessly to the floor. Edward stared up at her, blinking in surprise, but Bella couldn't spare another moment. She raised the shield again to smash it against Marcus' head, but the pirate raised a hand in defense, and the resulting blow knocked him to his knees, but he didn't lose consciousness. He stood, face twisted in anger, and descended on Bella with his sword held high.

He didn't make it two steps. He faltered, mouth dropping open in shock as Bella cowered, her shield held up against her chest. She watched in awe as blood blossomed on his shirt, spreading outward from the tip of a sword protruding from his chest. With a sickening gurgle, more blood bubbled out of his mouth as he fell to his knees, revealing Edward standing behind him, his sword buried in Marcus' back to the hilt. He pulled it free as Aro's first mate crumpled to the ground, and Bella looked away quickly from the blood stained blade. It took a few moments for her to realize that the room had fallen into stunned silence. She looked around, surprised to find the fighting over. Aro's men were on their knees, the crew of the _Arrow_ standing over them, awaiting orders from their captain. Edward wiped his sword on Marcus' back before sheathing it. He stood over Aro, fists on his hips, then looked up at Bella with a slight frown.

"Blast it, Smith," he grumbled, prodding at Aro with the toe of his boot. "How am I supposed to kill a man who's unarmed _and _unconscious?"

Bella bristled. "Would you rather I let him skewer you on his sword? Really, is it too much to expect a little gratitude-" Her eyes narrowed as Edward's lips quirked, and she realized he was _trying_ to bait her, most likely to get her mind off the grisly scene she'd just witnessed.

It worked.

She jumped down from the table, carefully stepping over the dead bodies littering the floor without looking directly at them. "You certainly do make a mess, Captain," she said, forcing a note of nonchalance into her voice. "I do hope you're planning to clean up after yourself." She was unable to hide the rush of dizziness that hit her when she neared him, however, and reached out to grab at his shoulder to steady herself.

"Damn," she muttered. "I really do have to get a handle on the swooning, don't I?"

Edward wrapped an arm around her waist, encouraging her to lean on him. "I think a bit of fresh air is in order. Hold on, Smith. I'm a wounded man. You're not going to make me carry you, are you?"

Bella forced a laugh, breathing deeply through her nose. "I'll do my best."

Edward shouted for the men to bind their prisoners, leaving Jenks, Crowley, and Allegheny behind to guard them while he and the rest of the crew set off for reinforcements from the ship to secure the treasure. Surprisingly, he'd lost no crew men in the fighting, although Jacob and Jasper were both wounded. Despite his injury, Jasper insisted on carrying Alice, cradling her gently in his arms.

"Is she all right?" Edward asked, reaching out to touch her forehead carefully.

Jasper nodded. "She's breathing steadily. We just need to get her someplace quiet where she can rest."

They set off for the outside, retracing their steps through the maze and tunnels and retrieving each of the relics along the way, just in case. Bella felt better when she spotted the door leading outside, even though it was closed - apparently by Aro - and it took several minutes for Edward to figure out how to open it from the inside. Alice moaned, shifting in Jasper's hold before her eyelids fluttered open.

"Should have seen him coming," she muttered, her words slurred.

Jasper pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Don't worry about that. Aro's no threat any longer."

Alice shook her head, the motion causing her to moan again. "Not Aro...the King...the King's man..."

Before she could say anything more, the door swung inward, fresh air from outside reviving them all as they stepped into the late afternoon sunshine. Buoyed by their success, the crew of the _Arrow_ emerged, laughing and shoving at each other good-naturedly.

Only to freeze at the distinctive sound of a flintlock being cocked. Bella looked around, eyes wide, unable at first to comprehend why there were at least twenty men surrounding the entrance to the cave.

Until she recognized the one who stepped forward. He was dressed in civilian clothes instead of his naval uniform, but his haughty demeanor and icy blue eyes were the same.

"Commodore Hunter," she murmured in shock.

He tipped his head, touching the brim of his hat with the barrel of his pistol. "We meet again," he replied.

~0~

Edward cursed, loudly and colorfully, at the sight of Hunter and his men. He glanced at Jasper as Hunter addressed Bella, hoping he understood the significant look he cast his way.

He did, apparently, and surreptitiously tucked the bag containing the relics into the underbrush next to him.

"I'm actually surprised you didn't catch on sooner, Cullen," Hunter said, turning his attention to the captain. "I couldn't understand why Aro and Renard were traveling together and what it all had to do with you. Of course, once I caught Renard, the answers came a bit more easily." He gestured with his hand, and a couple of his men stepped aside to reveal Renard and several of his men sitting on the sand, their hands bound behind their backs. "It's quite a victory for me, I'm certain you can imagine," he said with a smile. "To capture two of the most notorious pirates in the Caribbean and a treasure as well? Yes, quite a victory."

He tipped his head curiously. "Where is Aro, by the way?"

Edward's mind raced. He'd been so close, and now he stood on the cusp of losing everything. Hunter would stop at nothing to destroy him and claim the treasure for himself. Of course, he had no idea how to find it, but at the same time, Edward still had men inside, and he couldn't leave them trapped inside the mountain. He glanced at Bella...then Jasper...Emmett...Black. His men trusted him. He owed them so much. If there was only something he could do.

"Did you kill him then?" Hunter asked. He shrugged. "No matter. You're enough of a prize, I suppose. Certainly enough to garner me quite the reward. Combined with the treasure, I'll be back in London in no time, leaving these godforsaken islands for good."

Edward inhaled sharply, an idea coming as if out of nowhere. Perhaps there was a way. Perhaps he could save his men, if not himself.

"He's not dead," he said, glaring at Hunter.

"No? Well, where is he? Turn him over and perhaps I'll ask the hangman to tie the knot properly so you don't suffer too much."

Bella snapped, "You bastard!"

Hunter raised an imperious brow. "Such language! Of course, I should expect as much from Cullen's whore."

Edward stepped forward, but Hunter stopped him with a jerk of his flintlock. "I don't think so, Cullen," he said with a distasteful grimace that quickly turned speculative. "You have feelings for the girl, then?" He slowly moved his arm until the pistol was pointing at Bella. "Bad move, Captain. Never give away your weakness. I'd have thought you'd have learned that by now."

Edward fought down his fury, knowing it would do Bella no good. "The girl is not involved in all of this. If you want Aro, you'll need to deal with me."

"What if I just take him?"

"You can't. You can't find your way to him, or to the treasure, without my help."

Hunter laughed. "And why would you help me?"

Edward held out his hands. "I'm interested in an exchange. One I think will be mutually beneficial to both of us."

The commodore looked at him curiously. "What kind of exchange?"

Edward cleared his throat. It was time to lay his cards on the table. "Aro and his men. Plus half the treasure. In exchange for a pardon for me and my men."

"Half?" Hunter laughed again. "Why in the world would I settle for half?"

"Because you'll never find it without my help," Edward replied. "It's well hidden, as is Aro."

Hunter started to pace, considering. "Half, you say?"

"Still enough to make you a very rich man."

Edward could see the battle going on in Hunter's mind. His hate for Cullen on one side – his unbridled greed on the other.

"Think of it," Edward prodded. "You'd return one of the wealthiest men in London." The gleam of interest in Hunter's eye told him he was getting through. "Not to mention one of the most powerful."

"Not powerful enough to garner a pardon for One-Eyed Eddie Cullen," he retorted. "You're infamous, Cullen. I might be able to help your men, but you? There's no way."

Edward considered that. "All right then. My men, then. Any who wish to leave the _Arrow _will be left alone."

"No!" Jasper shouted. "No, it has to be all of us!"

"Avast!" Edward snapped. "Mind your place, mate!"

"But Edward," Bella said quietly. "You'll still be a fugitive."

He saw the anguish in her eyes, felt it himself. There would be no future for them. But then again, he'd never really expected one. He turned stiffly back to Hunter.

"What is your word? Do you accept?"

"If I do, how do I know you will honor your part of the bargain?"

Edward stiffened. "I will."

Hunter tapped his chin. "I believe I need a bit more than that." He turned to Bella. "Take her," he told his men.

"No!" Edward bellowed. "Leave her out of this!" He watched in horror as two of Hunter's men took Bella by the arms, leading her away. To his surprise, she didn't fight back, instead looking at him sadly.

"It's all right, Edward," she said. "Just give him what he wants and this will all be over."

"That's right," Hunter said, summoning his men with a jerk of his head. "We'll be waiting on the beach. The rest of your men will be released to help you retrieve the treasure. Deliver half – and I expect a full accounting to ensure you aren't cheating me, Eddie. Do, and your little wench here will pay. Don't doubt it for a moment. Deliver half, along with Aro and his men, and I'll see to the pardons for whatever members of your crew wish to leave the pirate life behind. As for you, I'll give you a head start before I inform my commanding officer of your last known location. Once I'm in London, I won't give you or any of this a second thought."

Edward looked into Bella's eyes and saw her willing him to accept. "Let me do this," she said quietly. "It's all right."

With a heavy sigh, Edward nodded, sending Jasper and Emmett with Hunter to fetch the rest of the crew and get help for Alice. Once they were out of sight, he ordered his men back into the caves. It would take days to bring out all the treasure.

Edward planned to cut that time in half.

~0~

_Two Weeks Later, Charles Towne, South Carolina_

Bella stood in the shade of a twisted oak tree, wiping tears from her eyes. A few feet away, Edward knelt before a carved headstone, his fingers tracing the name idly.

_Elizabeth Jacobs Cullen_

His mother.

He had brought Bella here, saying simply that he needed her. When she'd seen the small graveyard on the edge of the Cullen property, Bella had faltered, surprised that he would share something so personal with her. Edward hadn't pressed, instead leaving her by the tree as he approached his mother's grave and fell to his knees, speaking quietly in the stillness. Bella couldn't hear his words, only the low rumble of his voice mingling with the song of the birds in the treetops.

To be honest, she was amazed she was there at all.

Hunter had kept his word, and no one was as shocked by that as Bella. She'd half suspected when he took her away that she would be bound in chains and turned over to be hanged. She'd felt she had to at least try, however. Do her part to help the others – Jasper and Alice...Jacob...everyone on board the _Arrow._ It had taken a day and a half for the crew to bring out all of Mellick's Gold, and Bella had a sneaking suspicion Hunter had ended up with more than half. He'd returned her to Edward, however, along with written pardons for the members of the crew who wanted to leave the ship. There had been surprisingly few, actually – Jasper, of course, and Jacob...a handful of others – but most had no desire for a normal life. They'd packed away their part of the treasure and were ready to start off again on another adventure.

They'd stopped in Charles Towne to finally deliver Jasper to his new home. When they'd set foot on Cullen land, Alice had turned to Edward with tears brimming in her eyes.

"Thank you," she'd said, enveloping her brother in a hug. "Thank you for freeing him."

Edward had flushed and shrugged, finally bending to kiss Alice on the cheek. "Be happy," he'd said, repeating the words to Jasper with a more manly slap on the shoulder.

Alice had looked from Bella to Edward then, saying simply, "Sometimes things don't happen as we'd hoped, Edward. It doesn't mean we can't have what we want."

Edward's brow had creased in confusion. "What on earth does that mean?"

Alice laughed. "It means that you should take your own advice." She reached out to take him by his upper arms, squeezing gently. "Be happy, Edward."

Jasper and Alice wasted no more time and were married before they'd been back a full day. They'd disappeared into a small house near Esme's and hadn't been seen much since.

Bella smiled at the thought.

As for Jacob, he disappeared one night without saying goodbye. Bella was a little hurt that he'd left with no word, but she hoped she would see him again someday. Even more, she hoped he would find what he was looking for.

Emmett, on the other hand, opted to stay on the ship, although he planned to use his part of the treasure to go into business with Rosalie and expand the _Wild Rose._ He hadn't said it in so many words, but Bella knew he hoped his influx of coin would mean Rosalie could stick to managing the business rather than actively participating in it. She hadn't spent much time with Rosalie, but after seeing the two of them together for even a short time, she thought Rosalie felt the same way.

Edward reached for his dagger, bringing Bella out of her thoughts. She watched him curiously as he lifted it to a rope of his hair and sawed through it, close to his scalp. He placed the twisted lock on his mother's headstone, then kissed his fingers and pressed them to her name, bowing his head for a moment before he stood and turned toward her, wiping at his own tears.

"Are you all right?" she asked quietly.

He nodded, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips. She reached out with her other hand to touch the spot on his head where he'd cut off his hair, her gaze questioning.

Edward cleared his throat, looking back at his mother's grave. "When she died, I vowed not to touch a blade to my hair until I avenged her," he said, his voice a gentle rasp. "Every time I saw my reflection in the glass, it served as a reminder of my purpose."

Bella swallowed more tears, twisting her fingers into the ropes of his hair. "So you'll cut it now?"

He shrugged. "The vow has been fulfilled."

Bella nodded, turning to walk away from the graveyard, her fingers entwined with Edward's. Aro's death had not come at the point of Edward's blade as he'd hoped – nor at hers – but at the end of a rope. He'd been hanged only a day after Edward had turned him over to Hunter, as had all of his men. A short time later, the commodore had set sail for England, and Bella had no doubt he would end up with a title as well as wealth, no matter how much the idea turned her stomach.

She tried to put it out of her mind, focusing on Edward. Their future was a bit more muddled. Edward would return to the _Arrow_ by sundown. He dared not risk staying on land any longer. Hunter was no longer a threat, but Edward was still a fugitive, and it was only a matter of time before the Crown tracked him down yet again. Bella, however, was no longer considered a criminal, a fact that should have relieved her, but instead filled her with a quiet sense of dread. Edward had secured a pardon for her as well, and she could only take that to mean that he believed it was time they parted ways.

His actions seemed to belie that, though. Since they'd left the island, he'd been a constant presence at her side, touching and kissing her frequently. He seemed hesitant to let her out of his sight, and Bella wondered if he was storing up their moments together as she was...counting down the days, the hours, until they would finally say goodbye.

They ended up on the shores of the creek, once again looking out over the rushing water. The sun was low in the sky, casting gold and red into Edward's hair. Bella faced him, reaching out again to touch it.

"I don't think you should cut it," she said.

He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth lifting. "No?"

"It suits you." She swallowed a sob, turning away from him quickly.

"Smith?" He reached for her, but his hand fell short, drifting to his side. "Bella, it's all right. It's all over. You can go home. Have the life you deserve."

And with that, something snapped inside Bella. She turned on him, eyes flashing. "I don't want that life. I want you."

Edward jerked as if he'd been struck. "Don't be ridiculous. You'd have no life with me."

"Don't call me ridiculous."

"Well, then, don't _be _ridiculous, Smith. You need to go home. Find a nice man. Have a family."

"I don't want a nice man!" she shouted. "I want you, you stubborn, arrogant—" she searched for a proper insult "—lily-livered son of a scurvy sea dog!"

Edward blinked, his mouth hanging open, and Bella took no little pride in having struck him speechless. Then he started to laugh.

"It's not funny, you bastard!" she snapped. Edward just bent over, hands propped on his knees as he gasped for breath. Bella huffed in annoyance and turned to stomp away.

Edward stopped her with a hand on her arm, whirling her around and gathering her close. "Oh, Smith," he said, his eye still twinkling with mirth. "I fear I've ruined you for any other man. Who else would have such a foul-mouthed wench?"

Bella struggled against his hold, still annoyed, and it took a moment for her to recognize the significance of his words. She looked up at him, heart pounding in her chest. "What are you saying?"

Edward took a deep breath. "Damn it, Smith. I should let you go, but I'm a selfish bastard, aren't I?" He looked away.

"Edward. What are you saying?" She reached up to turn his face back toward her.

He looked into her eyes, his gaze softening. "I'm saying I love you, Smith. God help me. I don't want you to go anywhere if it isn't with me."

Bella gasped.

Edward laughed. "If I knew it would get you to stop talking, I might have told you sooner."

She smacked his arm. Hard.

Edward ignored the blow, laying his palm on her cheek. "I can't offer you a normal life, Bella. I wish I could, but I can't."

"I don't care," she whispered. "I love you, too."

Edward closed his eye, a soft smile on his face as he tilted his head back, the setting sun casting it in shadow. After a moment, he looked back down at her, the love evident on his face. "I will protect you, Bella. I _can_ promise you that." He lowered his head until his lips brushed hers briefly. "I will do whatever I can to make you happy. And I can also promise that our life together will never, ever be boring."

Bella giggled, joy bubbling up in an uncontrollable surge. "I believe that." He tried to kiss her again, but she pulled her head back, forcing a serious look as she thought of Alice. "You won't leave me behind, then. Pining away here while you sail off to who-knows-where?"

Edward sighed. "I wouldn't dream of it. No, you belong by my side. I need someone to watch my flank, after all."

"It's a nice flank."

He laughed, tightening his hold, and she relaxed against him, feeling his warmth...his strength.

Home. He was her home.

"So, what say you, wench?" he asked with a smirk. "Will you let me make an honest woman of you? Well, somewhat honest, at least?" He smiled widely at Bella's laugh. "Marry me, Smith. Marry me, and let's go have an adventure or two."

Bella thought it was to her credit that she didn't make him wait for an answer. She just smiled up at him, twisting her hands in his hair and tugging lightly.

"Aye, Captain," she said. "That sounds like a good bit o' fun."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Epilogue will be up shortly.


	26. Epilogue: The Legend of OneEyed Eddie

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue: The Legend of One-Eyed Eddie<strong>

Legends conflict as to the fate of One-Eyed Eddie Cullen and his first mate, Wild Bella Swan. Some say the pair was captured and hanged, exchanging a passionate kiss before joining hands to face the afterlife side by side. Others say the duo was killed when the _Black Arrow_ went down in a vicious hurricane somewhere in the Caribbean islands.

Still others, however – in stories told in hushed whispers around campfires late at night – say that Captain Cullen and his woman faced no such violent demise, but slipped from sight to live a quiet life among a group of natives in the islands after befriending Jacob Black, a local man with apparent blood ties to the chief. They say Cullen and Swan were married, had a child...grandchildren...and lived out their days together. Some stories say now and then the duo got an itch to return to the sea and set out to find a treasure or pillage the cargo of another pirate vessel.

"Just to keep sharp," Cullen was quoted as saying.

The fate of Cullens' family was a little more clearly documented. His father, Lord Cullen, married his second wife, Lady Esme Brandon Cullen in the spring of 1749. Lady Cullen's daughter, Alice Brandon Whitlock and her husband, Jasper, former first mate of the _Arrow, _had three children of their own and, despite their advancing years, adopted two more, orphaned in the Revolutionary War. Whitlock himself was credited with organizing a small group of spies believed to be largely responsible for thwarting a British attack on Charleston in 1779.

Emmett McCarty, Master Rigger of the _Black Arrow_, married a brothel owner, although the two quickly built something of an empire in the islands. Their descendants now own several prosperous vacation resorts, including the original _Wild Rose_, which has been preserved as a historical monument.

Lord James Hunter, who returned to England a wealthy man, boasting of having discovered Mellick's Gold single-handedly, died of consumption less than a year after he claimed his title. Ironically, London's cool and misty weather exacerbated his condition, and doctors speculated if he'd stayed in the Caribbean, he might have added years to his life.

He never wed and had no children. His lands and finances were seized by the Crown to pay outstanding gambling debts.

As for the rest of Mellick's treasure, it was divided amongst the crew of the _Black Arrow_ and handed down through the generations. Captain Cullen and his Bella stashed their portion of the treasure – not only Mellick's gold, but all the treasure they'd collected over the years – in various places. They hid caches in caves, buried it beneath trees, and left clues for their children and their children's children to be able to find it.

Why, you ask? Well, your guess is as good as mine, but I suspect Cullen thought it would be fun. In my research, I've learned that the captain was often motivated by such things.

Most historians believe all of Cullen's treasure has been discovered, much of it donated to museums over the years. But I believe there is one more cache out there. And I think I've discovered its location. My crew is ready, and I am confident we will discover what may be the greatest pirate treasure ever found.

So yes, I believe that One-Eyed Eddie and his Bella – his _Smith_ – lived a long and happy life together. I believe they plotted together to provide a bit of adventure to those who would come after them. And I believe that somehow, somewhere, they're looking down and smiling as I embark on this journey.

Tomorrow, I set sail in search of Cullen's Cache.

The call of the sea is difficult to resist. The call of a treasure even more so.

I would know, after all. I have the blood of pirates singing in my veins.

_- The Journal of Elizabeth Ann Cullen, Ph.D._

_University of Florida, History Department_

_August 12, 2012_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So there you have it. The end of the story – well, almost. As promised when we reached the goal for the **Fandom 4 No Kid Hungry Campaign**, I will be writing an outtake to this story. (**Updated 12/13/12** - The readers have voted, and it will be about the wedding and honeymoon of One-Eyed Eddie and Smith. I can't say right now when it will be posted, but it will be posted eventually. I'm currently on deadline with the second book of my original fiction trilogy, so I need to get that finished first. Thank you for your patience!)

I can't end this without a big thank you to my fabulous beta, **tiffanyanne3**, who's worked with me since **Beyond Time** and has just been amazing to work with. Thanks also to **KitsuShel**, who volunteered to pre-read **Cutlass** – thanks for all your help!

And thanks to all of you who read, reviewed, recommended, tweeted, PM'd and supported this story along the way. You make writing a joy!

Until next time…

-T


	27. Outtake: A Pirate's Wife for Me

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**A/N: **Oh, this has been a long time in coming, hasn't it? Thanks so much for all your patience. I hope you find Pirateward's final outtake worth the wait. This takes place a few months after the final chapter (before the Epilogue.)

As always, thank to my wonderful beta **tiffanyanne3** for all of her help. A bit of this is dedicated to **Ooza** – she knows which part. And if it squicks you out a little, sorry!

* * *

><p><strong>Outtake: A Pirate's Wife for Me<strong>

_Summer 1749_

"I'm not sure about this. You don't think it's a little…" Bella tugged on the top of the satin gown in a fruitless attempt to cover her bosom.

"A little what?" Alice fluttered about, pinning here, tucking there. "Fabulous? Lovely? Bit of perfection in an imperfect world?"

Bella laughed, unable to help herself. "Well, I was going to say revealing."

"Don't be ridiculous." She waved a hand, then closed in on an errant thread, snipping with focused vengeance.

"Not that it's _not_ lovely and fabulous and perfect," Bella hurried to add. "It's just…" She tugged at the neckline again. "I feel rather exposed."

Alice drew herself up to her full height, which should not have been as impressive nor as intimidating as it was, and gave her a stern look. "You run about in breeches all day, Bella. _Breeches. _And _now_ you're worried about propriety?"

"It's not the same thing. That's a matter of practicality."

"Right," Alice said with a wry smirk. "And you don't enjoy how it affects my brother at all."

Bella felt her cheeks heat despite a desperate attempt to say calm. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

Alice laughed. "Of course not." She pinned another pleat at the top of the skirt and grabbed Bella by the shoulders to spin her around toward the mirror. "Now, just take a look at that," she said, an air of awe in her voice, "and try to tell me it's not absolutely perfect."

Bella examined her reflection, and despite her reservations about the gown's low neckline, she had to admit Alice was right. Her future sister-in-law had been a godsend when Bella had come to her, wide-eyed and lost, without the slightest idea of how to plan a wedding—especially when she couldn't spend more than a few hours on land at a time.

The Crown had been relentless in the past few months, hunting down pirates and privateers alike in the wake of a series of attacks on civilian vessels. The_ Black_ _Arrow_ spent much of its time hidden in coves and isolated island bays, setting sail only at night for brief raids and supply runs—and the risky occasional visit to Edward's family in Charles Towne. Bella had tried to tell Edward that she didn't really need a fancy wedding, but he wouldn't hear of it, and Bella knew that it was at his request that Alice had stepped in and taken control of everything, including the wedding dress.

Bella was grateful, and she expressed it repeatedly until Alice threatened to poke her with a pin if she thanked her one more time.

As with everything having to do with the wedding, Alice had worked a miracle with the dress—well, two dresses, actually. Bella had been presented with a choice between Edward's mother's gown—a high-necked, tight-sleeved satin gown with a full train—and Esme's simpler one, made of lace and silk. She'd struggled with choosing between the two until Alice stepped in with a solution. She'd combined bits and pieces of both gowns and created something unique and, Bella had to admit, incredibly beautiful. The neckline curved low, but not indecently so, just grazing her shoulder with a trim of lace and satin ribbon. Form-fitting sleeves hugged her upper arms before flaring out at the elbow, revealing more lace underneath. The bodice laced up the back, tight enough to emphasize her curves but not cut off her breath, and the skirt flared out, lace over a satin train with a wispy silk underskirt that fluttered in the slight breeze from the window.

"You're right," Bella said with a light sigh. "It's perfect."

Alice squealed and pulled her future sister-in-law into a tight hug, and they both jumped when someone pounded at the door a mere second before shoving it open. Edward's head poked through the doorway, and Alice leaped frantically in front of Bella.

"You can't be in here!" she shouted, pushing Bella back toward the changing screen. "It's bad luck to see the bride in her gown before the wedding!"

"No time for that," Edward said, although he did lift a hand to cover his good eye. "We need to go. Now."

"Now?" Bella peeked out from behind the screen, tugging at the stubborn laces down the back of the gown and flinching when an errant pin stabbed her thumb.

"Soldiers are on the way," he replied, shoving his way into the room and past Alice. "They'll be here any moment. We need to go."

Alice's face blanked for a moment, eyes wide and unfocused. "Go through town," she said, "avoid the woods." She blinked, looking at Edward with a bit of a wince. "Sorry about the smell."

"The smell?"

"I can't get…these blasted laces…" Bella stretched and poked, anxiety making her fingers extra clumsy." Alice, come help me!"

Jasper rushed into the room, gasping for breath. "They're at the edge of the drive. You need to go out the back."

Edward stiffened, gripping the hilt of his sword. "Smith…now!"

"I have to get this off!" She whirled around, yanking her breeches up under the skirt and shoving her feet into her boots as Alice reached for the gown's laces.

"There's no time!" Edward slipped behind the screen, tugging his fiancée out by an arm and scooping up the rest of her clothes and sword with the other hand. "We need to get into the woods now, or they'll catch us for sure!"

With an apologetic glance toward Alice, Bella let Edward drag her through the room.

"Be careful!" Alice called, although whether she was more concerned about Edward and Bella or the gown, Bella couldn't be certain.

They followed Jasper to the back of the house, Edward helping Bella mount before tucking her clothes into a saddle bag and handing over her sword. Bella buckled it loosely over the gown, the skirt flowing out over the horse's rump, and turned to follow Edward across the back of the Cullen property at a gallop.

"How are we going to get back to the ship?" she asked as they made the tree line.

Edward glanced over his shoulder at the house, his mouth set in a grim line. "We'll have to circle around back through town and hope we can slip by them."

"Through town? You sure that's a good idea?"

"You heard Alice," Edward said, guiding his horse through the trees. "It's also the quickest way. The longer we're here, the greater the risk." He didn't say what Bella already knew—that the risk wasn't only theirs, but that of their whole family. If Edward and Bella were captured in Charles Towne, all of the Cullens would most likely be charged with attempting to aid in their escape.

They proceeded in silence along a path well known by the crew of the _Arrow_, and set the horses free with a slap on the rump when they came close to the town gates. The horses knew the way home well and took off at a trot back down the path. Bella gathered her skirts in one hand as she picked her way to the edge of the forest behind Edward.

"I like the gown," he said quietly, gaze dipping to the low neckline before he winked at her cheekily.

Bella fought the urge to roll her eyes. "You weren't supposed to see it yet," she whispered back. "Alice is beside herself."

"She'll survive." He held her back with a hand as he peered through the underbrush. "Come on."

They made their way through their usual spot in the gate, which still had yet to be repaired, Edward on high alert as his gaze swept the area.

"We need to get you out of that dress," he said. "It's a bit too conspicuous."

"Really? You think so?" Bella arched a brow and held the voluminous skirts out from her legs.

Edward smirked, reaching out to grab her hand and drag her between two buildings. "Hurry up and change," he said, handing over the bundle of clothes as he leaned out to keep watch around the edge of the building.

Bella picked her way back into the alley, avoiding a row of barrels and wrinkling her nose at the smell of rotting fish. Her boots slid in some unidentifiable muck and Bella gasped, barely catching herself on the rough brick wall before she fell spread eagle to the muddy ground. With a relieved exhale, she set her shirt and coat down on a clean piece of discarded wood and once again reached for the laces on the back of the gown.

"I think I'm going to need some help," she hissed at Edward.

He glanced back and nodded in acknowledgment, then stiffened as he took one last look down the street. He hurried back to her side. "They're coming," he whispered.

"More soldiers?" She looked around frantically. The buildings were tall on either side, the alleyway blocked at the back end by stacks of crates and more barrels. "Can we slip out?"

"They're just down the street. They'll see us." Edward quickly examined the blockade at the back of the alley, finding no niche large enough to hide them. He waved toward the row of barrels, quickly lifting the lids to peek inside. With a nod of satisfaction, he gestured to her.

"Up you go."

"Up I go?" Bella gathered her gown around her. "Into that?"

"You have a better idea?"

Bella hesitated only a moment before the sound of voices had her planting a hand on Edward's shoulder so he could heft her into the empty barrel.

Or _not-so-empty_ barrel.

Her boots splashed as she landed in ankle-deep water, the smell of fish overpowering as she ducked down, her shirt and jacket landing unceremoniously on her head before Edward replaced the lid so he could climb into his own hiding place. She felt a quiet surge of satisfaction at the splash and low curse that came from his direction, realizing he was in just as unpleasant a circumstance. Bella sat huddled in the darkness, breathing shallowly through her mouth to avoid the stench.

Sometimes, being a pirate was quite an inconvenience.

~0~

Edward's legs cramped as he shifted uncomfortably in the barrel, water seeping into his boots as he gripped his sword between his knees. He froze when the sound of male voices drew nearer, the tramp of boots echoing against the walls of the alley.

"Nothing here," a low voice drawled. "I don't know why we bother. Every time we get word of Cullen's whereabouts, he's long gone before we even arrive."

Edward smirked at that, of course.

"We have orders," another voice replied, and Edward could hear the slam and shuffle of someone tossing aside pieces of wood.

"You think you're going to find him hiding in there?" the first man asked with a laugh.

"He's a slippery bastard. I wouldn't put it past him." A thump, too close for comfort, told Edward the man had moved to the barrels. Another thump.

"You really think he's in a barrel?" Another thump. Closer this time. "Bloody hell. Stinks to high heaven in here."

Edward braced himself, fingers clenched around the hilt of his sword, and waited for the inevitable lifting of the barrel lid. He'd have to move quickly. Protect Bella.

The lid bumped his head, and he prepared to leap out of the barrel, muscles tensed and coiled to spring, but instead of light appearing overhead, he heard a strange noise.

A squawk. A flurry of what sounded like feathers.

"Bloody hell!" the first man shouted.

"_Bloody hell!"_ repeated a distinctly birdlike voice.

Barbarossa. The damned parrot.

"_One-Eyed Eddie! One-Eyed Eddie! Bloody hell!"_

Then laughter.

"That damned bird shat on me!"

Edward could have sworn he heard a stifled giggle from Bella's direction. He prayed that the soldiers hadn't heard the same.

"_Shat on me! Shat on me!"_ Barbarossa squawked.

"Shoot that bird!"

Edward tensed—not out of any concern for the bird; it was just a bird, after all, and Edward was fairly convinced it had been born of the bowels of hell and most likely _couldn't_ be killed—but he feared Bella might take it upon herself to try to rescue the parrot. He readied himself to spring to _her_ rescue in that event, listening intently for any sound of movement from the direction of her barrel.

A gunshot. Then another.

"_Shat on me!" _Barbarossa squawked indignantly, and Edward let out a relieved sigh.

"I can't believe you can't hit a bird at three yards!"

"'Twas more than three yards," came the mumbled reply.

"Damn," grumbled a voice. "Let's get back to the ship. Cullen is obviously long gone."

"Again."

"This is never going to come out."

"Try some soda water."

"Soda water?"

"My mam swears by it…"

Edward stayed frozen as the voices died away, finally lifting the barrel lid to peer out tentatively. Convinced they were alone, he climbed out of the barrel and hurried over to help Bella out as well. He started a bit when, in a flash of red feathers, Barbarossa swept down to perch on his shoulder.

"_Bloody hell!"_

"My thoughts exactly," Edward muttered, half-heartedly shooing the parrot away.

"Oh, now, be nice," Bella said, somehow producing a cracker from the depths of her folded up clothes. "He saved us! Didn't you, pretty bird?"

"_Pretty bird! Pretty bird!"_

Edward shook his head in exasperation, resigned to Barbarossa settling in against his neck. "We need to get back to the ship," he said, leading Bella to the mouth of the alley. He frowned, sniffing slightly at the lingering stench of rotting fish, and his gaze landed on Bella.

She lifted the hem of her wedding gown, soaked through and stained brown with streaks of pink. "Alice is going to kill me."

Edward winced. "Maybe a little soda water?"

~0~

Soda water didn't help. Neither did sea water, fresh water, lye soap, or— attempted in an act of desperation—a dab of rum. The stain faded and swelled, but the smell only seemed to grow stronger, and Bella fought tears as she knelt on the deck of the _Black Arrow_, frantically scrubbing at the ruined fabric.

"Bella…" Firm hands gripped her shoulders, but she shook them off.

"No! I can save it—"

"It doesn't matter—"

"Of course it matters, Edward!" She looked up at him through her tears. "This was your _mother's_ and _Esme's_. I can't have destroyed it!" She swiped at her cheeks and renewed her attempts at cleaning

"It wasn't your fault!" He paced the deck, glaring at the crew men who dared not pretend they couldn't hear the conversation before turning back to Bella. He fell to his knees beside her and grabbed her wrists in his, forcing her to drop the scrub brush.

"Smith. Look at me." He waited until she did, and then he smiled softly. "We'll get you another gown."

She huffed. "I don't want another gown."

"Well, that could prove interesting at the wedding." He felt a rush of relief when her lips quirked. "Although it would be convenient for the wedding night." He leered at her and she laughed, pulling her wrist free so she could smack his arm. Edward grabbed her waist and pulled her across the deck until her knees were tucked between his.

"Always trying to brain me," he murmured before kissing her soundly.

When he finally pulled back, they were both breathless. He lifted a finger to trace the spots of color high on Bella's cheeks. "It will be all right," he said quietly.

"Will it?" Bella's smile fell. "How are we going to get married, Edward? Crown ships are everywhere, and they have spies in every port."

"We'll be wed in a week. I have a plan."

"A plan?" She stood up and brushed off the knees of her breeches, the ruined gown forgotten for a moment. "What kind of plan?"

Edward stood and kissed her on the nose. "No worries, Smith. I have it all under control."

"How?"

He took her elbow to lead her below decks. "I'm not without friends," he said. "Some of whom owe me a debt of some kind or another. A debt to be fulfilled were they to provide a diversion of sorts for the Crown ships during the wedding."

"They'll lure them away from Charles Towne?"

Edward nodded. "Long enough for the ceremony," he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Alice is handling things at home. The vicar has received a substantial donation in exchange for his discretion. The celebration will need to be brief, but I won't complain about that." He leered again, and Bella knew he was thinking about the wedding night.

She blushed. She'd been thinking about it too.

True to his word, Edward hadn't kept her from his bed. He had, however, stayed firm with his wish that they not be fully intimate until they were married. Bella couldn't complain, really—Edward had showed her many very pleasurable alternatives to the marital act—but she would have been lying if she said she wasn't eager to be with him in _every_ way. Inadvertently, her gaze strayed to the bulge in his breeches. She was so curious—

"Smith?"

Her eyes snapped up to his face as her blush deepened. Instead of laughing at her, though, Edward simply cocked a brow, glanced over his shoulder, and stepped closer to press her up against the wall in the narrow hallway. His hands slid down her arms, his long fingers closing tightly around her wrists before he lifted them above her head to hold them firmly against the wall. Bella could feel him, hot and hard, all along her body, and she gasped at the sensation.

"Soon," he murmured against her lips.

Bella wasn't certain she would survive the wait.

~0~

Things didn't go exactly as planned.

"Behind you!" Edward shouted, sword flashing as he leaped over a chair. Bella whirled, raising her own sword in defense as the skirt of her new wedding gown flared around her, stained with a mixture of blood and rum.

A shriek drew his attention, and he spotted Alice cowering between two trees as Emmett fought with another of Randall's men in front of her.

_Bloody Randall. The man really held a grudge._

Edward gave the man fighting Bella a swift kick, then flipped his sword to bash him in the head with the hilt. When the pirate collapsed, he crossed to Alice, swept her out of the way and ushered her to the house.

"I'm so sorry!" she babbled. "I didn't see it coming. I didn't even look. I've been so focused on the wedding."

Edward shoved her through the door, motioning for Esme and a few of the other guests to join her. "Lock it, and don't let anyone in!" he barked.

Alice forced her way back out and grabbed at his arms. "Soldiers are coming!" she hissed. "You need to get Bella and your men out of here!"

Edward's jaw tightened, and he leaned in to kiss his sister on the cheek. "Be safe," he said before pushing her more gently back through the door. He heard it lock behind him as he searched the melee for Bella and the rest of the crew.

He'd thought he'd accounted for every possibility. Alice had handled the gown debacle relatively well. In fact, she'd had another gown ready for Bella when they arrived and waved off her apologies and thanks with a, "You really think I didn't see this coming?" and a fond shake of her head.

The grounds of the Cullen property had been transformed with flowers and ribbons, a veritable feast laid out on a row of long tables on the back porch. Guests had been sworn to secrecy—only family, close friends, and a handful of Edward's crew on the list, the rest bound to keeping the _Arrow _hidden and ready to sail at a moment's notice. Due to Edward's foresight, the _Nightshade _and _Calypso's Fury_ would lead the Crown ships on a merry chase through the islands during the festivities. What he hadn't anticipated was that the _Nightshade's_ captain, Silas Randall, would take the opportunity to seek revenge for what Edward had thought was a long-forgotten wrong.

It was only a bag of gold coins, after all.

Well, and Randall's woman, but she was hardly a prize worth fighting over, was she?

Edward shuddered at the thought. He'd had more rum than sense back then.

So, just as the vicar had opened his mouth to begin the ceremony, Randall had launched his attack. In addition, he'd apparently led a few Crown ships right to them, if Alice's premonition was to be trusted. And Edward highly suspected it was.

He dodged another of Randall's men, punching him in the face when he gaped at him in surprise, and spotted Bella across the yard. She stood atop a table, hair wild, white gown billowing about her legs. She had her boots on underneath, he noted with fondness. She held a sword high in one hand, a rum jug—of course—clutched in the other. Jasper fought one of Randall's men at her feet, and she watched closely, obviously waiting for an opportunity…

She swung the jug, connecting with the man's skull with a loud crack, and his knees buckled, eyes rolling back into his head as he melted to the ground. Jasper grinned up at her and reached up to help her down, placing a smacking kiss on her cheek as Edward approached.

"We need to go," he said, surveying the yard. His men had fought well, as had his family, and most of Randall's men were unconscious. Edward winced as Emmett forced Randall himself back toward the porch at the point of his sword. The pirate stumbled up the stairs, arms windmilling as he tried to maintain his balance. He fell backwards into the refreshment table and collapsed into the three-tier wedding cake with a loud "Oomph!" as the table splintered beneath him.

"Oh, it had strawberry filling," Bella said with a wistful edge to her voice. "I do like strawberries."

Randall floundered against the remains of the table as he tried to get to his feet, failing miserably as he slipped in a mound of pink icing. He groaned as Emmett kicked his sword away before returning to Edward's side.

"Gather the rest of the crew. Soldiers are on the way." When Emmett nodded and turned to follow his orders, Edward turned to Jasper. "Will you be all right?"

Jasper grinned, then put on a shocked expression. "We were simply having a family celebration and found ourselves overrun by dastardly pirates!" he exclaimed with wide eyes. "Thank heavens the soldiers arrived in time to rescue us!"

Edward smirked. "Well, you appear to have rescued yourselves."

"A man does what he must to protect his family," Carlisle interjected, wiping blood-stained hands on his breeches as he joined the group. "Go now, Edward…Bella." He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "We'll be fine. Hurry now."

Emmett returned with the horses and they mounted quickly.

"Be careful," Bella said before kicking her heels to follow in Edward's wake.

"Send word when you re-schedule the wedding!" Carlisle called out as they left.

Edward lifted a hand in acknowledgement, but he wondered just how exactly he was going to accomplish that.

~0~

Bella sat straddling the bowsprit on the deck of the _Arrow, _her booted feet dangling over the crashing waves. She sighed, the sound getting lost in the wind as it whipped about her. It had been a week since the debacle in Charles Towne, a week since her hopes of being wed were dashed by that bastard Randall and his men.

She sighed again. A week of frustration and despair.

She'd tried to talk to Edward once they made it back to the ship. Several times, actually. The argument was not a new one, but one that always ended in the same way. She'd plead that she didn't need a big wedding—that they could sneak ashore one night and find a Justice of the Peace—but Edward wouldn't hear of it.

"I can give you little of a normal life, Smith," he'd say, "but I can at least give you this."

And then he would distract her with kisses and touches and sweet, sweet promises, and she would be lost.

He'd been particularly occupied since they'd returned to the ship, disappearing ashore periodically before he'd return looking harried and frustrated. When she'd asked what was wrong, he'd waved her off with a forced smile and a kiss before ordering them to another port.

Bella sighed again. It had seemed so simple, once upon a time. The wedding, the marriage…a life together. She'd been excited about the planning with Alice, had even sent word to Jacob via a messenger that Edward knew. She had no family left, and Jacob was actually her closest friend, apart from Edward's family.

She hadn't heard back, but she held out hope that she'd see him once again.

"Bella?" She turned at the sound of Emmett's voice. He'd been promoted to First Mate when Jasper had left the ship, and he took the responsibility seriously, the well-being of the entire crew—Bella included—always at the forefront of his mind. He stepped forward hesitantly, his mouth turned down in a slight frown. "Are you all right?"

Bella considered that for a moment. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course." He turned to lean against the gunwale and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You and Rosalie," she said. "How do you do it?"

"What do you mean?"

Bella shrugged. "You're in love. But you're here…and she's there…" Rosalie still ran the _Wild Rose_, and while Emmett visited whenever he could—as did she—they were separated more than they were together.

"Ah." Emmett nodded. "It won't always be so, though." He leaned toward her with a wink. "We have a plan."

Bella snorted. "Seems to be a bit of that going around."

Emmett laughed. "Rose has a mind for business," he said, tapping a finger against his temple. "She's mapped it all out. I'll continue on the _Arrow_, save my share of the booty. She'll do the same at the _Wild Rose._ In two years, we'll have enough to invest in more property and go into business together. Then we'll be married."

"Sounds like you have it all figured out." Bella sighed. "But two years is a long time, isn't it?"

"Not when you see the treasure at the end of the map," he said with a wink. He stood and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I know it's difficult, but it will all work out."

Bella knew he was no longer talking about himself and Rose. "Thank you."

He patted her shoulder and turned to walk away, just as Edward emerged on deck and bellowed his name.

"Come about! Leeward ho! Prepare to drop the mainsail!" he yelled. "Look alive, men! Stick to the fairway or we'll run aground for sure!"

Bella got to her feet and crossed to Edward, where he stood with a hand on the wheel. She realized that they'd come close to a small island while she'd been lost in her own thoughts.

"Where are we?" she asked him.

He grinned down at her. "You'll see," he said before lifting the spyglass to his good eye. "Strike the sails and swing the lead!" he shouted.

As one, the crew worked efficiently to lower the sails and maneuver the ship toward a narrow inlet on the beach. Bella was still awed by their synchronized movements, how they worked together with only a few words of instruction. The _Arrow_ moved slowly through the shallow water.

"It's rather ingenious, actually," Edward said, half to himself. "The waters around this island are so rocky, most ships won't even come close."

"So why are we?"

Edward winked at her. "I've been given the way through."

"By who?"

"I have friends in high places. Or I should say, _you_ do." With another enigmatic smile, he shouted to the crew, "Land ho! Steady as she goes, lads! Come about and drop the anchor!"

They entered a large cove, almost completely surrounded by a narrow strip of sandy beach and swaying palms. Bella spotted a lone figure standing in the shade and gasped when it took a step out into the sunlight.

"Is that…?"

Edward laughed. "It is."

Fifteen minutes later Bella bounced with excitement, nearly upturning the dinghy as they rowed to the beach. She was the first out of the little boat, splashing through the shallows and up onto the sand with a wide smile on her face. She came to a stop a foot away from the man on the beach and paused to take him in. He wore a loose linen shirt and breeches, his feet bare and his skin darker than when he'd been on the _Arrow_. Obviously he'd been spending a lot of time in the sun, and the tattoo on the side of his face seemed paler in comparison, his grin blinding white in the sunshine.

"Jacob," she said with a squeal, before launching herself into his arms. "I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again."

He laughed, the low rumble vibrating through Bella as well. "Well, you have your man to thank for that."

She pulled back just as Edward joined them on the sand. "I don't understand," she said.

Jacob and Edward exchanged a knowing glance. "I understand you're in need of a wedding," Jacob said. "And I happen to have one to spare."

Edward took Bella's hand in his. "I contacted Jacob after what happened," he said. "I wanted to find a place where we could have the ceremony that would be out of sight—protected from the Crown and other pirates as well. He suggested his island."

"_His_ island?" She turned wide eyes on Jacob.

"Well, my _people's _island," he clarified with a grin. "But the result is the same."

"He's the chief," Edward pointed out.

"Chief?" Bella repeated. "Since when?"

Jacob shrugged, scratching at the back of his neck. "Recently," he said. "I was meant to take over the role when my uncle died—he had no heirs—but as you know, I had other priorities. When I returned, the man who had been serving as chief relinquished the title."

"Just like that?" Bella asked, surprised.

"It's mine by blood and by law," he said. "My people respect that above all else."

"I…I can't believe this," Bella murmured. "I'm still trying to understand what's happening."

Edward squeezed her hand. "What's happening is a wedding—_our_ wedding. Jacob can perform the ceremony himself. It will be recognized even by the Crown," he said.

"But I suggest we get things started," Jacob said, turning and extending a hand toward a narrow path through the trees. "Tradition says we need to perform the ceremony before the sun sets, and it's nearly time."

Bella followed him, speechless and a little overwhelmed. Edward held her hand, pulling her close every now and then to kiss her gently on the temple. They started up a steep hill, and her heart started to pound. She knew it wasn't only from the exertion of the climb.

She was going to be married. Soon.

They came out of the trees at the top of a bluff overlooking the ocean, and Bella gasped when she took in the scene before her. A group of people stood gathered around a large arch decorated with brightly colored flowers—yellow elder flower and frangipani in shades of pink and orange and white. Some in the crowd she didn't recognize—natives she assumed were Jacob's people—but a few were familiar, and she stood frozen in shock as Carlisle, Esme, Alice, and Jasper turned toward her. Alice squealed and raced over, a length of white cloth folded over her arm.

"We need to hurry. It's almost time," she said.

"What?" Bella was still a bit dazed.

"You need to get ready. It's almost sunset." Alice pulled Bella free from Edward's grip and steered her toward a small tent near the edge of the clearing. "Now go in there and put this on," she said, shoving the cloth into Bella's hands.

"What is it?"

"Your wedding dress, silly," Alice said with a roll of her eyes. "And let's hope the third time's the charm."

~0~

Edward stood under the arch and wiped his sweating palms on his breeches. He'd changed into formal attire, his hair tamed by a piece of leather and his cheeks clean-shaven. Jasper stood to his left and Jacob to his right as they waited for Bella to emerge from the tent so they could start the ceremony. The sun touched the horizon, rays of red and orange drifting over the gathering as two men moved around the clearing to light the torches. Edward took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he willed his nerves to calm.

Then he saw her.

She emerged from the tent, brushing a lock of hair back from her face. It hung loose about her shoulders, and Alice stepped in to adjust one of the flowers tucked around her head like a crown. Bella smiled tentatively at her before squaring her shoulders and starting toward the arch. Her dress—a simple, loose, flowing thing that hugged her curves as the breeze touched her—only accentuated her beauty, instead of drawing attention from it, and Edward realized he wasn't breathing when Jasper subtly elbowed him in the stomach. Edward drew in a sharp breath but did not turn to glare at him, unable to draw his eyes from the woman coming toward him. All else faded away, and there was no crowd, no torches, no cliff or sky—only Bella.

But of course—Bella being Bella—when she stepped up onto the low platform and faced him, she said with a wink, "You clean up pretty well for a disputable rogue."

And—Edward being Edward—he replied with a definite leer aimed at her low neckline, "Nice dress, Smith."

And just like that, any nerves—any anxiety over what they were about to do melted away, and they grinned at each other, joining hands and waiting for Jacob to say the words. His voice rang out loud and strong over the clearing, the sky brilliant and blood-colored over their heads. He spoke first in his native tongue, then smiled at them both before translating into English.

"We are here, this day, to witness the joining of Edward and Isabella," he said. "It is a joyous occasion when two hearts become one, when two souls find each other across the vast sea of life, and we are blessed to share in this moment."

He paused, then looked at Edward. "Let he who wishes to be joined approach me now."

Edward took a deep breath, then a step forward, Bella's hand still held firmly in his.

"Let she who wishes to be joined approach me now." Bella stepped forward.

"Should any gathered here have objections to this union, now is the time to make it known." Jacob voice was low and serious, but when he paused to allow for responses, he winked at Bella, and she choked on a giggle. He gave her a stern look that didn't quite reach his eyes and turned to Edward.

"Repeat after me."

Edward looked into Bella's eyes as he murmured his promise. "Isabella, I bring you the warmth of my heart. I offer my protection, my honor, and my fidelity. My life is yours until I take my last breath."

The fading light shining in her eyes, Bella repeated her own vows. "Edward, I bring you the light of my love. I offer my support, my loyalty, and my devotion. My life is yours until I take my last breath." A tear rolled down her cheek, and Edward reached up to wipe it away with his thumb. She leaned into the touch and closed her eyes, a soft smile on her face.

Jacob cleared his throat. "May the warmth and light of your union be blessed. May you know the best of fortune, and your life together be one of joy and prosperity. Do you swear to keep sacred your vows?"

"We do."

"Then seal your promise with a kiss."

Edward grinned, joy pushing him forward to sweep Bella into his embrace. He leaned her back over his arm with a wink. "Ready, Smith?"

Bella smiled, joy shining in her eyes. "Ready, Captain."

He lowered his head and kissed her soundly as the crowd erupted in applause and catcalls. He brought her to her feet—eventually—and laughed when she chased his mouth to take one more kiss.

That was his Smith. His _wife._

Jacob held up his hands to silence the crowd. "The groom's sister will now perform a traditional blessing on the wedded couple."

Alice stepped forward, touching Bella's arm with a bright smile as Jacob stepped back so she could take his place. She didn't wear the traditional kohl and face paint of a Vodou priestess, but her words still carried the authority of her position.

"_We are grown and gathered and bound_

_And the binding is well;_

_We are fixed at the hip and the hand_

_And the head and the heel;_

_We are planted beneath the land,_

_Forever to wheel_

_As the earth and the sun are wound_

_On a golden reel,_

_As the ripening grasses stand,_

_And pale and fall."_

The blessing echoed in the clearing before fading away as Jacob stepped forward once again. "I present to you Captain and Mrs. Edward Cullen!"

Edward swept Bella into another kiss as the crowd cheered and the sun slipped fully below the horizon.

~0~

Bella was nervous. And excited. And a little bit nauseous, but that could have been because of the second piece of cake. The party carried on into the night, drums pounding out a festive rhythm as the guests danced and ate and drank. And drank.

Yes, they drank a lot.

Only a skeleton crew was left to keep watch on the _Arrow_, so the rest of the men were allowed to join in the celebration. They did, in their usual boisterous manner, with wrestling and swordplay that had some of the other guests stepping back warily. Jacob's people, however, joined in the fun, one large man even challenging Emmett to a bout of arm wrestling. Bella found herself laughing more that night than she had in a long time—possibly ever.

The rum flowed plentifully from jugs and a bottomless bowl of a sweet fruity punch, as well as in the rich, dark black cake that was traditional wedding fare in the islands. The food was delicious and exotic: rock lobster, grilled fish, fruits and vegetables of every variety, and something called conch, which Bella had been a little leery of, much to Jacob's amusement.

"But it's raw," she'd said, poking at the white flesh with a finger.

Jacob rolled his eyes. "The lime juice cooks it…_without_ cooking it."

"That doesn't even make any sense." She frowned at her plate and licked her finger. It did taste like lime, as well as brine and a mixture of spices. Not wholly unpleasant.

"Don't be a coward, Bella," he said. "It's not going to hurt you."

"Now don't provoke my wife." Edward had joined them, balancing three cups of rum he'd retrieved from the refreshment table. "It's not her fault if she has a delicate constitution." He handed a cup to Jacob and sipped from his own, eyes dancing merrily.

Bella glared at him, then at Jacob, who seemed to be fighting a grin.

"Fine," she muttered, scooping up the whole pile of conch and popping it into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed the tender meat, the lime and spices exploding on her tongue, and let out a heavy sigh.

"You're right," she said. "It's delicious." When Edward and Jacob clinked their rum cups together, Bella reached for her own with a haughty sniff. "Don't gloat. It's very unattractive."

The men had burst out laughing, and Bella couldn't help but join in.

The rum had left her lightheaded, but not drunk, lounging on a blanket around a central bonfire as the others danced. She leaned back against Edward's chest, warm and content, but with an edginess underneath—an awareness that made her heart skip whenever Edward laughed or moved. She knew every moment drew them closer to when they'd retire to the little hut Jacob's people had prepared for them, closer to what she'd been waiting so long for.

"Enjoying yourself?" Edward murmured into her ear, his breath raising goosebumps all along her neck.

"Of course," she said. She faked a yawn. "It's getting late, though, don't you think?" Bella felt a telltale flush working its way up her cheeks and couldn't meet Edward's eyes.

She could hardly be blamed for being eager, could she? It had been _months._

She felt the low rumble of Edward's chuckle at her back. "You so eager to divest me of my virtue, Smith?" His lips brushed against the shell of her ear. "Not exactly ladylike, is it?"

Bella's face heated at his teasing, but she turned to glare at him anyway. "As you've always been so quick to point out," she said crisply. "I'm no lady. And you, Captain, are no gentleman." She got to her feet, fists propped on her hips. "I think it's high time you show me what all the fuss is about, don't you?"

She leaned forward in what she hoped was a provocative manner—successfully, if Edward's dark look down her bodice was any indication. "Unless you'd rather stay here and arm wrestle with Emmett while I take matters into my own hands?" she said airily. Edward's gaze flashed up to meet hers and she raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"Saucy wench," Edward muttered, but he licked his lips, glancing down at her bosom once more before hastening to his feet.

Bella made a show of rolling her eyes. "Who would have thought it would be so difficult to get a pirate to ravish me?"

Edward choked on a laugh, then stepped closer to her, his body taut with intent. "Don't test me, woman."

She lifted her chin in challenge. "Or what?"

Edward loomed over her, gaze narrowing as they stared each other down for a long moment. Then, in a flash, he reached for her and threw her over his shoulder.

"Edward!" she shrieked, squealing with laughter.

He smacked her backside, but without any real power behind it. "Quiet, wench. I've some ravishing to do!" And with that, he stalked toward the forest, the catcalls of the crew and the wedding guests egging him on.

"Edward, put me down," Bella said breathlessly. "I've had too much rum for this!"

"You should have thought of that before."

"Please, Edward," she gasped, a wave of dizziness forcing her to grasp his hips to steady herself. "I really do think I might be sick."

Edward stopped in his tracks and carefully lowered her to her feet. "Are you ill?" he asked, all pretense forgotten as he cupped her face in his hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

She took a few deep breaths. "I'm fine. Just needed to be right side up, I think. Give me a moment?"

He nodded, running his palms soothingly up and down her bare arms. The moonlight cut through the trees, casting Edward's face in harsh shadows, and his hair had come loose, blowing about in the slight breeze. He looked, in that moment, wild and dangerous and beautiful—the scourge of the high seas, and the man who'd captured her heart.

The man who'd soon take her body. Bella shivered.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"You're trembling."

"I'm…I…" She swayed toward him, her hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders. "I think…I'm ready."

"Ready?"

She nodded, stepping closer until they were pressed together. "_Very_ ready."

Edward's mouth twisted in the ghost of a smile. "Oh, well then…" He lowered his head, nipped at her bottom lip and caught it gently between his teeth. Bella gasped, a surge of heat rushing through her as he released her lip to slide his tongue along it, slow and wet, the sensation making Bella's heart race. Where Edward's kisses had always been hot, dizzying…_aching…_this one held a new note of possessiveness—of claiming—and he pushed deeper into the kiss, gathering her close and supporting her weight when her knees buckled.

She clung to his shoulders, unable to do anything but _be _kissed, _be_ held, her mind a muddle of nothing and her body overwrought with sensations of heat and hardness and electric _wanting_ that she couldn't put into words if she tried. She ran her fingers up along the length of his neck, tangling them in his hair and _tugging_—pulling him closer if that were even possible. Edward groaned, one hand sliding down her back to press at her backside as he thrust his hips ever so slightly. Bella's breath caught. She could feel Edward against her stomach, a hard line defining his own want, as he broke the kiss.

"We should get to the hut," he said, his voice broken and wrecked. All Bella could do was nod and take his hand.

They walked quickly in silence. Edward guided her along the path, his breath harsh in the stillness. Bella's skin itched; her bones ached.

She _craved_.

They rounded a corner and the hut stood before them, small and simple, lit by a pair of torches in front. Edward removed one and opened the front door to lead her inside. He lit a few lanterns before blowing out both torches and returning to her side.

"Something to drink?" he asked, motioning to a low table between two small chairs. The hut was one room, with a sitting area near a stone fireplace—unlit due to the warm summer weather—and a bed on the opposite side of the room, along with a dresser and wash basin.

"Smith?"

She blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

He smiled softly. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Oh." Now that they were alone, she felt a bit nervous. Not distressed, really, just uncertain as to how to proceed. She swallowed. "No. No, I'm not thirsty."

Edward reached out to take her hand. "Relax, Smith."

"I'm perfectly relaxed." Her voice cracked.

Edward smiled and pulled her close. "I'm going to take care of you." He leaned in to kiss her softly, then a little deeper, his hands rubbing gently up and down her back. Bella breathed out the tension in her body. This was familiar…_comforting_…this being together, being close, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and once again gave in to the warm sensations.

Edward was relentless, his kisses deep and drugging, his hands constantly tracing her curves—along her hip, grazing the side of her breast, brushing the back of her neck—and Bella once again found herself wanting more. She whimpered into his mouth and he nuzzled at her throat, teeth tracing along her collarbone, and Edward stiffened at the noise, then pulled her closer, his touch more purposeful, his kisses hotter…more demanding.

His hands drifted to her hips, gathering the fabric of her dress into his fists, hiking it higher and higher until he pulled away, sliding it, as well as her shift, up and over her head. Bella's skin pebbled, her breathing shallow, and out of reflex, she moved to cover herself.

"Don't." His voice was low. A command. She obeyed, her hands lowering slowly to her sides.

"Edward…please…" She reached for his cravat and untied it slowly, pulling the knot loose with trembling fingers. Edward shrugged out of his coat and shirt, but when her fingers moved over his breeches, he caught her wrist.

"Not yet," he said before taking her in another devastating kiss.

He moved with determination, like the pirate he was, intent on pillage and plunder. Time lost all meaning as she writhed on the sheets, captive to Edward's talented fingers and mouth. He took her to the peak, time and time again, only to back off again, the pleasure building and ebbing until she begged for release.

With a grin, he touched her again, and she knew he was going to grant her plea, but this time, she reached out, twisting a hand in his hair to stop him. He looked up in confusion.

"Not yet," she said, pulling harder until he crawled up her body, cradled between her thighs. "Not until you're inside me."

Edward groaned, and Bella smiled in victory when he stood to quickly kick off his breeches and boots—she spared a moment to be embarrassed, thinking of what he'd done to her while still in his _boots_, for God's sake—and slid back up her body, finally skin to skin. She could feel him hard and ready against her hip, and she was just so tired of waiting.

Her hips thrust up. "Edward. Now…please."

"Bossy wench," he said through gritted teeth, but he reached between their bodies to position himself at her opening before cradling her head in his hands. Instead of thrusting forward, though, he paused. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'll be fine. My maidenhead is long gone, Edward. That thing you did with the—"

"But you're so small, and I'm so—"

"It will be _fine_ Edward," she said, arching up, only to have him pull farther away. "I _want_ it."

"I don't know," he said, reaching between their bodies again. "I could just—"

"Edward, damn you!" she snapped, grabbing his hair in a tight fist. "By all that is holy, if you don't get that thing inside me right now, I will get my dirk and cut. It. Off."

Edward's eyes widened, but his hips jerked forward just enough to breach her slightly. She spread her legs…tilted her hips to get him deeper. He groaned, his arms shaking as he braced himself over her, but when she did it again, he met her halfway…and then...

Then...all the way.

Bella tensed slightly. It wasn't painful, but Edward was right. He was big, and she wasn't. She shifted to accommodate him, lifting her legs slightly and letting out a little surprised sound when a surge of pleasure shot through her.

Edward responded with a growl, all pretense of holding back forgotten. He took her like he took everything…relentlessly and with purpose. All Bella could do was wrap her arms and legs around him and ride the crest of pleasure as it pushed her higher…higher…

Until at last, she hit that pinnacle, her body stiffening for one long moment in aching, arching pleasure. She collapsed to the bed, boneless and tingling with echoes of that release with every one of Edward's increasingly erratic thrusts. Finally, he tensed, her name on his lips, before he sank slowly onto her, his face tucked into her neck as his breathing eased.

"God, I love you, Smith," he whispered into her skin.

She shifted, and as he rolled onto his back, she moved above him, settling in and resting her chin on his chest. "I love you too, Edward," she said, running her fingers along his shoulder, then gently up the line of scars on his face. She paused when she reached the edge of his patch, watching him carefully. After all their time together, she'd still never seen him without it. She'd never asked and he'd never offered.

But in that moment she wanted to see—wanted to know _all _of him—to let him know that she loved _all _of him. Still, she wouldn't push if he wasn't ready. So she waited, a light touch drifting along the bottom edge of the patch as Edward watched her steadily.

He reached up, his hand faltering only a moment before he pushed the patch up and off his head. Bella braced herself, unsure what she would see, but in the end, she needn't have worried.

Her fingers drifted over the smooth skin where his eye used to be, a scar showing where the damaged flesh had been sewn together. And in that moment, it struck her how it was so fitting—so _Edward._ Scarred and bruised, but beautiful in its own way—a symbol of the strength that enabled him to survive in a world where so many perished. She was aware of him, so still and quiet beneath her, waiting to see how she would respond.

So she leaned up and pressed a kiss over the wounded flesh he kept hidden from the world.

And a tear slipped down Edward's cheek as she whispered, "I love you."

~0~

"You know," Edward said through a bite of banana, "this is quite a nice place."

They were sitting in bed the next morning, indulging in the fruit basket they'd discovered once they finally explored the hut a little bit. Jacob had made sure they were well provided for, with bread and cheese, and several jugs of fresh water. They wouldn't need to leave the hut for days, which was fine with Bella. Edward's patch was back, and she didn't mind that either. He seemed more comfortable with it, but he also seemed more comfortable with _her_, a new intimacy between them that she couldn't help but relish.

"It is," Bella said, tearing off a piece of bread and feeding it to him. "Let's stay here forever."

She expected Edward to laugh, but instead he cleared his throat and took a drink of water.

"Edward?" She wondered if she'd said something wrong. Perhaps put too much pressure on him. "I was only joking. I know we need to go back—"

"It would be simple enough to add on another room," he said slowly. "Perhaps two?"

"Are you serious?"

"Well, not right away," he said, taking the fruit bowl and setting it on the floor. He gathered her close, placing a palm on her belly. "But the _Arrow _is no place for children, Bella."

"Children?" She choked on a piece of cheese. "It's a little soon to talk about that, isn't it?"

He shrugged. "You could already be carrying my child."

She fought a hysterical giggle. "You're mighty sure of yourself."

Edward looked affronted. "Are you questioning my virility, wench?"

"Perish the thought," she said, running a finger over his frown until it eased. "I'm sure you're very, very virile Captain."

"Bloody right." He placed a smacking kiss on her nose.

She leaned back against him, but his words continued to float around in her head. "You really would do that?" she asked quietly. "Leave the _Arrow_?"

Edward let out a breath. "Of course I would."

"But wouldn't you miss it?"

"Would you?"

She thought about that. "I think I would. A bit." And the more she thought about it, the more she realized she _would_ miss the feel of the sea spray against her face, the sway of the deck below her feet…the excitement of a chase at full sail.

"Good God, I'm a pirate," she muttered.

Edward laughed, full and loud. "Aye, Smith. You've just now realized that?"

She turned in his arms, settling in his lap with her legs wrapped around his waist. "We could do both, couldn't we?" she asked. "Live on land for a while, but go to sea when we feel the need?"

Edward's lips lifted in a slow smile. "I'm certain our children's grandparents would be thrilled to have them visit on occasion."

"Nothing too dangerous," she said quickly.

Edward scoffed. "Of course not. A quick night raid now and then."

"Just to keep sharp."

"Perhaps a treasure hunt if the opportunity arises."

"Well, of course, that goes without saying." Bella settled her arms on his shoulders. "What's life without a little adventure? Now and then."

He grinned. "Oh, Smith, I have a feeling our life will be _full_ of adventure, even on dry ground."

Bella smiled wickedly and leaned in to lick his neck. "I could use a little adventure right now."

"Oh, really?" Edward's voice took on a low rasp, his fingers tracing up her thighs. "I think that can be arranged." He leaned in to kiss her, only to stop when someone pounded at the door.

"Go away!" he shouted.

"I'm sorry, Captain," a voice said through the door—Emmett, Bella realized. "I know you said you weren't to be disturbed unless—"

"Damned right!" Edward bellowed. He pulled up the sheets to cover Bella and shoved his legs into his breeches. He strode to the door and flung it open. "So what in the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Emmett cleared his throat, pointedly not looking in Bella's direction. "It's Randall, Sir. He managed to escape the soldiers in Charles Towne."

Edward's spine stiffened. "And?"

"Lookout spotted the _Nightshade_ just off Urina, the island to the south, Captain. Doesn't look like Randall knows we're here. He's sticking to the shallows, most likely trying to avoid Crown ships."

"Damn," Edward breathed, glancing back at Bella. "Make sure the ship says hidden."

"But Captain, you said we'd go after—"

"I _said_ keep the ship hidden," Edward snapped. "We'll wait until Randall moves on before we—"

"Edward," Bella got up on her knees, the sheet wrapped around her. "The man ruined our wedding."

"Only the first one," he said with a smirk.

"He tried to kill us."

"Unsuccessfully."

"Damn it, Edward. We can't let him get away!" Bella said, all modesty forgotten as she reached for the bag of clothes someone had delivered to the hut. She fumbled through it for her breeches and shirt. Emmett wisely turned around and took a few steps away, taking particular interest in the surrounding vegetation.

"We might not get an opportunity like this again," she said, tugging the shirt over her head before pulling on her breeches. "We have to go after that…that…"

Edward crossed to her. "Bella—"

"He tried to kill our _family_, Edward. He has to pay."

Edward watched her for a long moment, then his lips quirked. "Who knew my wife was so blood thirsty?"

She gaped at him, then couldn't keep back a quick laugh. "Not for blood, necessarily. Just a little revenge. Maybe liberate a bit of gold from his coffers?"

Edward grinned and eyed her carefully, then called out over his shoulder. "McCarty?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Ready the ship. We sail within the hour."

"Yes, Sir." Emmett spared a wink at Bella before taking off at a run toward the ship.

Bella started to turn away to search for her boots, but Edward caught her arm and leaned in for a gentle kiss.

"We _will_ come back here," he promised.

"Someday." She smiled.

He nodded. "Someday."

He kissed her again, and she indulged in the feeling, wrapping her arms around his neck as he drew her up on her toes. And Bella realized that whether it was on board a ship, or on a tropical island—in Charles Towne or Boston, Tortuga or bloody Timbuktu.

Wherever Edward was, she was home.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, and recommending this story, and special thanks to all of you who've been so supportive as I made the move to original fiction.

I don't know that I'll be writing any more fan fiction anytime soon. I never say never, but I'm working on my second and third book right now, as well as a new novella, so I don't know that I'll have the time to devote to any more Bella and Edward tales.

So, thank you again for reading my fics. I've said it before, but it's still the truth – I so appreciate each and every one of you who've taken the time to read my stories and share your responses. It really does mean the world to me.

All the best!

-T


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